


Forward

by xoxodelvidestruction



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, First Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 14:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 77,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23040616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxodelvidestruction/pseuds/xoxodelvidestruction
Summary: When you meet the love of your life, you assume you can overcome any challenge. Some things, though, are just too much. If it breaks, how do you find the way forward?
Relationships: Robert Kubica/Inkeri Pedersen
Comments: 24
Kudos: 13





	1. 9 June 2007 - Canadian Grand Prix

Inkeri walked down pit lane, surprised to see how much things had changed during her seven years away. The only driver she recognized was David Coulthard, even Ferrari was the only team virtually unchanged.

The cars were vastly different, fitted with all sorts of new technology and safety features. Gone were the V12 engines, replaced with V8’s that put out the same power. Williams’ Renault engine was now a Toyota, but the cars had returned to blue and white after their red livery in the interim. 

Several of the tracks were new to her, as well. There were tracks in the Middle East, as well as a new circuit in the US, and Brazil had become the season ending race instead of the opener. One thing, though, was exactly the same.

“Inkeri! It’s a wonderful surprise to see you here,” Frank Williams exclaimed, never really expecting to see her in the paddock again, but pleased nonetheless.

“You invited me,” she reminded him, leaning down to hug him. Despite the years apart, Frank still felt like the doting uncle she could always go to in a tough spot.

“I’ve invited you to every race since your father left the team.” It was true, Inkeri had received an invite from the Williams team every year since 1996. “I was very sorry to hear about his passing,” Frank added, keeping a tight grip on her hand as she stood up.

“He wasn’t the same after Senna,” she shrugged, unwilling to think too hard on the past. His death had been incredibly hard, but six years had helped to turn the pain into gratefulness for the time she had gotten with her father. Frank nodded, both knowing that Senna’s death had changed everyone in the team.

“Every car since,” he told her, proudly pointing to the ‘S’ on the car’s livery. “It looks like I’m needed. You’re welcome to stay for qualifying. It’s just an hour away,” Frank added, waving at his driver that had walked in.

“I’ll wander for a bit and be back later.” Inkeri smiled at the driver as she left the pit box, recognizing Nico Rosberg from photos and interviews about the team. His father had been a world champion in a Williams and Nico was hoping to have the same success.

“Is that little Inkeri Pedersen?” She grinned broadly as she paused to look at David Coulthard.

“You look old,” she quipped, trying, and failing, to avoid the headlock he put her in.

“You were such a sweet kid. What happened?” Inkeri couldn’t stop laughing as he messed up her hair, leaving the short strands standing in all directions when he finally let her go. “It’s good to see you back, kid.” David had replaced Senna in 1994 and felt a certain sense of duty to look out for Inkeri. After her father had died, David had been the only one to make a trip to visit her.

“I’m a teenage girl, I’m supposed to be a pest,” she giggled, rolling her eyes for effect.

“So you came to Canada to harass me?” he asked, frowning and putting his hands on his hips. 

“I came to Canada because it’s the first race after graduation. And… I missed being here,” she admitted, her voice going a little quiet. The time away had been good, but now, she just wanted to be back around the sport. She had grown up in the paddock and it felt more like a home than any other place.

“I heard a rumour that Karen has a cake hidden away for you,” he grinned, giving Inkeri a quick hug. “Pester your uncle Frank to come by this evening.” Inkeri absently nodded, her attention momentarily caught by a group of young drivers walking by. “Don’t get any ideas,” David chided, his badly hidden grin countering his stern tone.

“Ideas about what?” Inkeri asked, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“Frank had best keep an eye on you,” he grinned, gently shooing her out of the pit. “Now, get back to Williams so I can focus on quali.” 

“Good luck!” she called over her shoulder, heading back down the paddock. As she rounded the corner, she nearly bumped into someone. “Sorry, I should pay more attention to where I’m going,” she apologized, glancing up at the dark-haired man in front of her. He didn’t say anything, shaking his head briefly before stepping around her.

“He’s just quiet,” Nick commented, noticing the confusion on Inkeri’s face. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, brushing off the other BMW driver’s dismissal. She had recognized Robert Kubica instantly, but she wasn’t going to waste her time praising his rookie season if he was going to be so rude. “You’re Nick Heidfeld, right? I’m Inkeri…”

“Pedersen. Frank was always bragging about you,” Nick smiled, walking past her towards the BMW pit. “Congrats on graduation, by the way!” he called back.

“Thank you!” she replied, waving before heading back to the Williams area.

Inkeri was glad to see a Williams qualify in the top ten. Rosberg had set a good lap time, earning 7th on the starting grid. She would be lying, though, if she didn’t admit to also watching the driver from earlier. Kubica might have been icy, but Inkeri couldn’t deny how good he was behind the wheel.

Frank wasn’t entirely pleased with his new driver’s qualifying time. He elected to stay in the pits a bit longer, going over the car’s performance with Alexander Wurz. Inkeri found herself again shooed out of the pits, told to go on to the motorhome without him.

Inkeri caught sight of Nick a few paces ahead, hurrying to catch up to him.

“Hey, congrats on third. That car looks quick,” she said, glad to see he wasn’t bothered by her interruption.

“Are you trying to get some tips for Williams?” he asked, grinning at her. “It was a good day.”

“I’m just a guest,” Inkeri assured him, holding her hands up in mock-surrender. Someone in team colours waved Nick over, wanting to get interviews over with.

“Robert will walk back with you,” Nick winked, volunteering the tall man beside him. Inkeri glanced at him, caught between smiling and glaring at the driver she had nearly walked into earlier.

“Ok,” Robert agreed, not exactly looking pleased with the idea. Nick walked off, sneaking a glance back at them. He wondered if his suggestion would pay off.

“It’s alright. I can find my way there,” she assured him, not wanting to feel bothersome.

“It can be confusing when you’re new.” His tone was brusque and Inkeri was beginning to feel like an annoyance again. Robert hadn’t needed to speak earlier for her to realise the bit of inconvenience she had caused.

“I’m not new and I don’t need a babysitter,” she snapped, taking a deep breath. Her words had been a bit sharper than originally intended. Inkeri opened her mouth to apologize but he interrupted her.

“I don’t mind,” he said softly, his voice much gentler than before. “I don’t like being out-qualified.” It wasn’t exactly an apology, but Inkeri could tell that was his intention. Maybe Robert wasn’t as rude as she had assumed.

“No one does.” Inkeri went quiet, wondering if Robert would try to continue the conversation. He didn’t seem like the chatty type.

“So you’re a guest of Williams?” he asked after a few minutes, surprising her. She nodded, wondering how much to say.

“My dad was a mechanic for the team. I finally caved to Frank’s numerous invites.” Robert glanced over at her, appraising her, trying to figure her out.

“Was?”

“Yep,” Inkeri nodded, deliberately being evasive. Luckily, Robert picked up on her apprehension and didn’t ask any more questions about it. She kept her eyes down, unable to meet his gaze as he continued watching her. As a result of watching her feet, Inkeri nearly walked right into a motorhome door as it was opened. Robert caught her arm quickly and pulled her out of the way.

“What was it you said earlier?” he asked, holding Inkeri close to him.

“Earlier?” She wouldn’t admit it, but being nearly pressed against him was making it very hard to think straight. There was a brief moment where it looked like Robert was suffering from something similar as his eyes flicked to her lips.

“You should look where you’re going,” he replied, his eyes snapping up as the moment was interrupted by a shout from David.

“Oi, Kubica, hands to yourself,” he remarked, walking over to them. Robert slowly let go of her arm and stepped away, trying not to jump back like a scolded child.

“I should get back,” Robert said, immediately turning to walk away.

“Come by for cake,” David invited, knowing the young driver wouldn’t. He paused for just a moment.

“Race prep,” he replied shortly, looking like he would have said anything to get out of the invite.

“Good luck tomorrow,” Inkeri added quickly, catching the slight incline of his head before he walked away. As soon as he was out of earshot, the teasing began.

“Good luck,” David imitated, making his voice comically high-pitched. He even fluttered his lashes for extra effect, bumping Inkeri’s shoulder as she turned bright red. “What? Somebody’s got to embarrass you,” he teased, leading her back to the team area.

“You’re always embarrassing,” she responded, ducking her head as they walked past the crowds. David just smiled broadly.

The next day, Inkeri could feel the difference in the paddock. Yesterday had been tense, but nothing compared to race day. Everyone was focused today, none of the usual jokes or laughter echoing down pit lane.

Mechanics rushed about, making sure every little detail was perfect. Pit crews organised tires and tested tools, hoping to prevent any mistakes during the race. Drivers stretched and adjusted their earbuds, verifying that the radio was working correctly.

Inkeri stood at the back of the Williams garage, careful to stay out of the way. She knew how important race mornings were. All of her attention was focused on the monitors, watching everyone preparing on the grid.

Her eyes followed Nico as he pulled on his helmet, making sure that everything was in its perfect place. He stepped into the car, letting one of the crew help adjust his harness. Once he was comfortably situated, they added the bolster and handed him the steering wheel.

Gloves on and wheel in place, everyone dispersed from the grid, standing back as the cars started off for the formation lap. Frank motioned Inkeri over, wanting her to stand next to him during the race. The cars lined up on the grid once more and Inkeri held her breath as the lights went out.

She tried not to cringe as Scott Speed clipped one of the Williams. She was a nobody, but there were still plenty of cameras watching for reactions in the pits. Several laps later, though, she was unable to stop her grimace as Nico came in while the pits were closed. The safety car’s timing couldn’t have been worse for him or the team, the ten second penalty sure to take him out of the points.

Just a few laps later, Kubica made contact with one of the Toyotas. Forced onto the grass, his car hit a bump, launching the BMW across the track and into a concrete wall. Inkeri clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide as the car’s carbon fibre body splintered into pieces. Medics pulled him out of the car and everyone was assured that the Polish driver was alright.

Inkeri tried her best to cheer when Wurz managed to cross the line in third, a fantastic charge through the field earning the team a podium. The team was still frustrated by Nico’s penalty, but Alexander’s triumphant performance helped soothe some of the sting.

“Everyone will be watching the trophy presentation if you want to sneak over to the medical center,” Frank said, interrupting Inkeri’s thoughts.

“Why would…” She stopped, the look on Frank’s face clearly indicating that he could see through her.

“It was a big crash. You don’t have to know him to want to be sure he’s alright,” he told her, knowing the accident had brought up memories of a race in 1994 that would forever be burned in her memory.

“Thank you,” she murmured, squeezing his hand before slipping out of the pits. She glanced back, watching as the whole team cheered and tore off down pit lane towards the podium.

Inkeri paused at the medical center door, wondering if she should go in. A big part of her wanted to be certain that Robert was as alright as everyone claimed, but the rest of her assumed he wouldn’t be pleased at her intrusion. The image of his barely recognizable car flashed behind her eyelids, though, propelling her forwards.

A large figure stepped into her path, blocking the entrance.

“Authorized personnel only,” he said, directing her back down the sidewalk. Inkeri’s mind ran through a few possibilities, trying to think of the easiest way in.

“But I sprained my ankle,” she replied, pretending to limp. She exaggerated her step a little too much and tripped, kicking one of the small planters decorating the area. Inkeri gritted her teeth, trying not to give away her ruse as she noticed a small blood stain forming on the ankle of her trousers.

“First aid is two buildings down on the right.” Inkeri yanked up the leg of her pants, pointing to the giant gash on her leg.

“Will you carry me?” The man winced at her new injury. As soon as he turned away, Inkeri mouthed several silent curses. She had meant to use a fake injury to get in, not wind up needing several stitches.

Finished debating, the guard led Inkeri into the medical center, depositing her into an exam room. He turned back just before he closed the door, pointing a finger at her.

“You do not leave this room.”

“I do not leave this room,” Inkeri repeated, nodding her head. She stayed put until the doctor had finished her stitches.

As soon as he stepped out to get some extra bandages for her, Inkeri snuck out. There was a muffled “Come in” when she knocked at the next door, so Inkeri slowly pushed it open, suddenly nervous.

Robert didn’t say anything, but the raise of his eyebrows gave away his surprise. She was definitely not who he had been expecting.

“I just wanted to be sure you were alright,” she mumbled, suddenly feeling very silly. He looked a bit banged up but otherwise in the same condition he had been in yesterday. Kubica held her gaze for several moments before speaking, again trying to figure her out.

“I’m alright,” he reassured, nodding. “Thank you for checking on me.” Inkeri hadn’t expected his voice to be so kind. Caught off guard, she dropped heavily into the chair beside his bed, rubbing her temples. Seeing that he was really ok released tension she didn’t realise she had been holding on to. She could sense that he was waiting for some form of explanation just from the way he was watching her.

“I have this image of Imola stuck in my head,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes down. It wasn’t exactly an explanation but Kubica understood her well enough. She shook her head as though clearing away the mental fog. “I’m glad you’re ok.” Inkeri stood up, nearly out the door before he could speak.

“You could stay a bit longer.” She paused, looking back at him. “They’re making me stay overnight,” he added, shrugging as though he was bored by the idea of staying any longer.

“Alright,” she agreed, slowly walking over to sit beside him again. “I doubt Uncle Frank will miss me for a while.” Robert raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask any questions.

“I didn’t catch your name before.” Inkeri smacked a hand against her forehead, her cheeks a bit pink.

“Oh, sorry, I’m Inkeri. Can’t believe I just assumed,” she cringed.

“That’s an unusual name,” he commented, grimacing as he attempted to sit up a bit more. She hopped up, immediately helping him to get re-situated.

“Completely archaic old Norse. I don’t think it’s been used since the 1800s,” she explained, adjusting the pillow behind his back before realising how much she was invading his personal space.

“I like it.” The corners of his mouth nearly quirked up into a smile.

Inkeri sat with him for almost thirty minutes before his eyes began to droop, the adrenaline from the accident completely worn off.

“I should let you get some sleep. All of this talking has probably been exhausting,” she joked, remembering the few tidbits she had heard about Kubica being very quiet. Inkeri had slowly discovered he wasn’t shy, just extremely reserved.

“Yea, leave me alone,” he complained, smiling despite his gruff tone. She was pleasantly surprised at the feeling she got from being able to get a smile out of him. “Oh, Inkeri, how did you get in here?” She paused with her hand still on the doorknob.

“Um… I needed stitches.” Despite facing away from him, Inkeri could still feel his eyes on her back.

“You could have asked someone to walk you over.” Inkeri muttered a curse under her breath, wishing she had thought of that. She opened the door without another word, thunking her forehead against it after it had closed. From inside, she could hear him faintly laughing. 


	2. 6 April 2008 - Bahrain Grand Prix

“You must be a mirage from the heat.” Inkeri spun around, a giant smile on her face as she met the surprisingly warm, green eyes of Robert Kubica. They hadn’t spoken since last year, but Inkeri couldn’t deny she had thought about him frequently. 

“Am I your oasis in the desert?” she asked, quirking a brow at him. It had been eight months since she’d last seen him, but her confidence had greatly increased since then. To her complete shock, he grinned before grabbing her into a hug.

“Of course,” he said, stepping back with a groan as he caught sight of David Coulthard over her shoulder. “Don’t disappear again,” he chided, trying to sneak away before David got to them.

“Kubica! Hands off!” David shouted, grinning as the Polish driver tried to melt into the crowd despite his height. “It's deja vu,” he said, pulling Inkeri to his side. “You, miss, are in for a talking to after vanishing like that.” Inkeri cringed, knowing it was coming.

“I know, Frank already gave me a lecture. I won’t do it again,” she promised. After the last race, she had gone home with the intention of returning everyone’s calls. She could blame a portion of it on university, but the majority of it had just been her own struggle.

The last crash had brought up a few memories she had been keeping buried. It had taken a few months for her to fully iron out why it was affecting her so badly. After that, she had sorted through it all and decided to come to a race instead of calling.

“So you’re alright?” She nodded, falling into stride with him as they walked towards the pits. “Good. Now I can bollock you about Kubica.” Inkeri looked up at him, completely confused.

“What about Kubica?” she asked, having no idea what he was referring to.

“Couldn’t you have picked a driver who wasn’t kicking my ass this year?” he teased, puzzled at the look still on Inkeri’s face. “You’re not actually dating him, are you?”

“No,” Inkeri said, shaking her head firmly. “There aren’t many options if a guy has to be doing worse than you, though,” she jibbed, ducking when David tried to mess up her hair. “Did he say something?” she asked, trying to be coy to avoid further questioning in return. If she were being honest, she had expected Robert to all but forget about her.

“I’ll answer that when you’re done being a teenage pain in the ass,” he replied, giving her a gentle push.

“I’m only joking. Webber retired at the first race, too,” she said, watching David roll his eyes.

“Not exactly better,” Coulthard groused, still side-eying her. “Kubica asked after you a couple of times since you’ve been gone. Frank seems to think you led the poor boy on after visiting him in Canada,” he finally explained. Inkeri went quiet, realising she sort of had led him on. “Now, you’d best get down to Williams. Frank will have my head if I let you hang out at Red Bull for qualifying.” She grinned at him, knowing David was right.

Despite standing in the Williams pit, Inkeri couldn’t help cheering for Robert as he qualified on pole. One stern look from Frank, though, and she was quickly getting control of herself. He wasn’t entirely pleased with his team’s qualifying, their performance seeming to slump after a great Australian Grand Prix.

“Go congratulate him before I throw you out for smiling,” Frank instructed, no real malice behind his words.

“Encouraging me to congratulate the enemy?” she grinned, knowing Frank didn’t see any of the drivers as ‘enemies’.

“There are worse things that could happen to my niece than Kubica,” he shrugged, shooing her away. Inkeri tilted her head, wondering what he meant by that. If Frank had that much trust in Kubica, she had definitely underestimated his character. 

“Good luck,” she murmured, passing Nakajima on her way out. The Japanese driver looked a little paler than usual. His first season with Williams wasn’t going as well as hoped.

Inkeri milled around outside of the press conferences, hoping to catch Kubica on his way out. The large group of journalists had somewhat dispersed, having gotten interviews with most of the drivers already.

After another ten minutes, the doors opened and the top three drivers filed out. Massa and Hamilton slipped through the crowd, heading straight back to the Ferrari and Mercedes pits. Kubica trailed after them, catching a glimpse of Inkeri waiting off to the side. He inclined his head towards the paddock area and was glad when she understood him, quickly falling into stride.

“Very impressive today, Kubica,” Inkeri smiled, following him into the BMW area.

“Just wanted to prove I could beat my teammate,” he grinned, coming to a stop as Inkeri did. He noticed a few team members watching her, everyone aware that Inkeri had been hanging out in the Williams pit. She wanted to make a quip about his puffed chest, but she caught some of the wary looks on team member’s faces at her presence, deciding to start backing away.

“I only came by to say congrats.” Her eyes swept over the area, apprehension clear on her face. Ignoring the small group, Kubica reached for her hand, pulling her towards the motor home behind him. “I don’t think I’m welcome,” she protested, resisting him for a moment.

“You’re always welcome,” he replied, no hesitation in his voice. Inkeri stared at him for a moment before squeezing his hand, letting him lead her up the steps. “Coffee?” he asked, closing the door behind her. Inkeri nodded, glancing around the interior space as he moved into the little kitchen area.

Unlike one of the Williams’ motorhomes, Robert’s was impeccably organized. The rigidity of his normal routine showing through.

“It’s functional,” he shrugged, noticing her gaze. Inkeri accepted the coffee cup he held out, sitting down across from him at the small table.

“Very reserved,” she agreed, nodding. Robert scoffed, the barest hint of a grin on his lips. “I didn’t say cold out loud, did I?” Inkeri took a sip of her drink, trying to hide her own grin as he squinted at her.

“Maybe I’ll take back the invitation,” he grumbled, reaching for the cup.

“It’s wonderful, most beautiful place I’ve ever been,” she backtracked, holding the mug out of his reach. He raised an eyebrow at her but stopped trying to take her coffee away. “It’s very good,” she mumbled into the cup, taking a longer sip. “So, aside from making excellent coffee, what else do you do?” Robert shifted slightly in his seat, a little uncomfortable talking about himself outside of his driving role.

“Driving takes up most of my time. I’m sure you do much more interesting things,” he deflected, hoping to take the focus off himself.

“Driving?” Inkeri questioned, not ready to give up just yet. “That’s it?”

“I like to bowl,” he finally admitted, sensing she wouldn’t be distracted. Inkeri nodded, encouraging him to continue. “And play snooker when I have the time.”

“A little quiet time away from the track?” His eyes lit up just a little, surprised she understood that so quickly.

“Sometimes I need a break from all the rush around here,” he confirmed. Inkeri’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, and he wondered what she was thinking.

“Well, maybe you could teach me sometime. I’m really awful at bowling, but I’ve never tried snooker. Like, genuinely bad at bowling, though. I will probably embarrass myself with either. Maybe it’s not the best plan,” she babbled, clearly nervous. Robert was maintaining his usual stoic expression, but his eyes were bright. Inkeri was potentially hinting at a date, and he found himself really liking the idea.

“How about this?” he asked, leaning forward conspiratorially. Inkeri leaned in as well, trying very hard to ignore his hand as it brushed against the back of hers. “If I don’t crash tomorrow, you’ll give me your number. Then, next time we’re in the same place, I can try to teach you about snooker.”

“Want to be certain I’m not a jinx?” she grinned.

“Very much so.” Inkeri looked up, scrunching her nose and pretending to think very hard about his offer.

“And if I really am hopeless at it?” she pressed, wondering if he caught her intended meaning.

“I’m a very patient teacher,” he reassured, this time letting his hand deliberately rest on hers. Inkeri tried to surreptitiously take a deep breath, wishing she could appear as calm and confident as she normally did.

Inkeri reached for the pen and paper someone had left sitting on the counter. She wrote down her number and showed it to him. Robert took it, not telling her he had memorized the number before handing it back.

“I can leave it here if you want,” she offered. “Burn it together if something goes wrong tomorrow.” Robert reached for her hand, tightly closing it around the paper.

“Gives you a reason to find me tomorrow,” he shrugged, his tight grip on her hand betraying his attempt at looking disinterested.

“I’m just going to pretend our conversation yesterday helped propel you onto the podium,” Inkeri laughed, barely pulling the slip of paper out of her pocket before Robert grabbed it.

“I had a lot of wheel spin at the start so you aren’t totally off the hook,” he contested, hiding the paper away nonetheless.

“I did offer it to you yesterday with the option of burning it should I prove to be such a bad omen. But nooooo,” she drew the word out, raising her shoulders. “You just had to try and rush,” Inkeri added, tsking at him. Robert’s eyes widened.

“Are you always this cheeky?”

“Pfft, I tried to warn you,” David smirked, walking past them. “If she gets really stroppy, just grab her like this,” he instructed, tossing an arm around Inkeri’s neck before she could jump back. His other hand scrubbed the top of her head, successfully ruining the small amount of care she had taken with her hair.

“Thanks for that,” she grumbled, trying to ignore his smug grin at her red cheeks. Inkeri tried to tame her hair a bit before just giving up. She had never been overly concerned with her appearance, and now didn’t seem like the time to start.

“Congrats on the podium,” Coulthard added, continuing towards the group of journalists waiting for them after the race. He would never admit it, but he was starting to like the young driver. 

“Yea, what he said,” Inkeri agreed, briefly holding Robert’s gaze.

“I really wanted this… thing,” he finished, unsure what to call the trophy in his hand. Inkeri’s eyes narrowed for a second before she caught the grin on his face. “I’ll add you to the trophy case soon enough,” he winked, ducking out of the way before she could shove him. “I think someone’s calling for me,” he fibbed, holding his hand up to his ear.

“You better run, Kubica,” Inkeri grinned, shaking her head at him. He was certainly in a better mood after a good race.

“Be careful,” Nick warned, well aware of the reason behind his teammate’s smile. “There’s a lot of people in the paddock who will be after your head if you hurt her.”

“Maybe it’s worth it,” Kubica shrugged, keeping his voice low. He brushed past Heidfeld, moving down the line of journalists. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our lovely little journey is just getting started :)
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and as always please leave comments or kudos if you feel so inclined.


	3. 5 June 2008 - Canadian Grand Prix

Frank Williams tried to keep his expression stern as Inkeri settled into the chair across from him. He knew she was on summer break, but he hadn’t expected her to request a formal meeting with him when she came to visit. This was the second grand prix she had attended in the year, and he wondered what she wanted to talk about.

Inkeri sat up straight, making sure to keep her posture firm as her uncle stared her down. She knew Frank was only trying to match her formal request, but it was still intimidating. Her first year of university had flown by, and she felt more certain of her choice than ever before.

“I’m not sure what is more surprising,” he began, looking her up and down. “You being here on a Thursday wearing a business suit or your bright blue hair.”

“Well, hair not included, you told me to take it seriously if I wanted to talk about something ‘befitting seriousness’,” she replied, trying to mimic his British accent. Inkeri pulled a file folder out of her large handbag, sliding a few papers in front of him. “I have decided to transfer to the University of London’s City location. I have been accepted into the research program for mechanical engineering with a focus on automotive pursuits. After completing my first year, I have the option to begin a mentorship with a professional in the field I aspire to join,” she began, pointing out her acceptance letter and reference letters from professors at Rice University. “I would really like for you to be my mentor next year.” Inkeri pushed a form towards him. It was a request to act as a mentor for the University.

“You want to work in F1?” he asked, reading through the references. Each professor had written quite extensively about Inkeri’s ability to innovate and find unusual solutions. The proverbial lightbulb lit up in his head, seeing a potential place for Inkeri in the team already.

“It’s my way of joining the family business,” she admitted, knowing Frank would have a soft spot for having her around.

“Would you consider working for a different division? I think I might have a place for you in our advanced engineering department. We could call it an internship until you finish your first year in London,” he suggested, watching the gears turning in her head.

“What would I be doing?” she asked, wanting to be sure it wasn’t a totally unrelated project. Frank was quiet for a moment before she realised it was probably highly confidential. “Do I need to sign an NDA before we can talk about it?”

“It’s something new for the team,” he conceded, making a note to start the formal paperwork with Inkeri.

“I’m in if I can keep the hair,” she grinned, just happy to know it still involved the F1 team, even distantly. Frank reached a hand across the table, shaking her’s firmly. “Thank you for the opportunity,” Inkeri said sincerely. She had been nervous about her pitch, but the outcome was even better than expected.

“I think you could be a good fit for the team,” he nodded, collecting the papers in front of him. “Now, how many more races can I expect you at? It’s easier to get a pass if I know ahead of time.”

“Would France, England, and Germany be too many?” Frank smiled and shook his head.

“If I can get the paperwork filed, would you like to be involved at them?” Inkeri nodded excitedly.

“That would be amazing.”

“Good. I’ll try to have it all settled. Do we need to have the fraternization talk?” he asked, catching Inkeri off guard. She looked a little startled, wondering why that part hadn’t really crossed her mind.

“Maybe…” she admitted, slightly fearing his reprisal. She wasn’t exactly fraternizing with anyone, but it was a definite possibility. Frank’s eyebrows raised and he stared at her until she cracked. “I might have a date with a driver.” Her uncle visibly relaxed.

“Took him long enough. Coulthard owes me 20 quid,” he mumbled, looking pleased. Inkeri’s jaw dropped.

“Not only are you not upset, you made bets?” she asked in disbelief. “There’s no talk, is there? You just wanted information first,” she realised, scowling at him.

“Just be careful with your heart, Inkeri. That’s all I can say. I watched you kick Damon Hill in the shin when you were only five. I’m not worried about you letting anyone walk over you,” Frank grinned, still relishing the memory of a tiny, angry Inkeri kicking his driver.

“Well, I promise to kick Kubica very hard if he tries to steal my ice cream,” she laughed, standing up from the table.

Inkeri met Robert at a sports bar near the hotel most of the teams were staying at. It wasn’t very full inside and the bartender didn’t give Inkeri a second look when she ordered a beer. It only took her a moment to realise the drinking age was only 19 in Canada.

“You look surprised he served you,” Robert commented, leading her to a booth near the pool tables.

“I just forgot the drinking age is different here than in the US. I think 19 makes more sense anyway,” she replied, anticipating his next question. Robert looked a little relieved, as though he hadn’t previously considered her being underage.

“Have you always lived in America?” Inkeri shook her head, preparing the story she usually told new people. It wasn’t that she hid things, she just didn’t want to give away too much to someone who wouldn’t be staying.

“No,” she began, shaking her head. “I was born in England to Estonian parents. My mom left when I was small, so my dad took me with him. After he passed, I moved to Kansas with my uncle, but I relocated to Texas last year for university.” Robert watched her expressions carefully, sensing that there were a lot of questions she wouldn’t answer right now. In some small way, it was comforting to find someone who was guarded like he was.

“Do you secretly want to become a cowgirl?”

“I pretend like it was the scholarship, but you see straight through me,” Inkeri replied, rolling her eyes at him.

“Must be pretty smart to get a scholarship,” he commented, glancing at her over the pint glass.

“I’m good at tests,” she deflected, unwilling to brag about her full ride to one of the top schools in the US. She was a very hard worker, but all of the mechanical items just seemed easier for her.

“Texas is a long way from Switzerland,” he murmured, intending it more for himself than Inkeri. He hadn’t considered that she would live that far away. Despite the distance, he found himself still wanting to let her in. Planes flew between them every day.

“Already thinking about seeing me again?” Inkeri teased, grinning at him over her glass. If the lighting had been better, she would have seen the gentle flush on his cheeks. “Luckily for you, I’m moving to London at the end of the summer.”

“All the closer to terrorize me from,” he retorted, enjoying the banter they always seemed to fall into.

“I’m going to need something stronger than beer to deal with your snippy comments.” He playfully scoffed at her, taking a long sip of his own drink. “So the team is based in Switzerland? Do you enjoy it there?” she asked, returning to their exploratory conversation.

“I do,” he confirmed, nodding. “It’s a little bit nicer than Krakow, but that stays between us,” he added. Inkeri nodded and leaned in, pretending to conspire with him. “I go back and visit sometimes. I’m sure you know how that is.”

“I haven’t visited my uncle. We weren’t very close,” she shrugged, wondering if she had a large family hidden away somewhere in Denmark. “I haven’t been to Denmark since my dad took me there in 1992.” Inkeri felt like she had given away too much as Robert studied her. There wasn’t any pity in his eyes, but something was still too concerned for her comfort. “Anyway,” she cleared her throat, wanting to change the subject.

“Williams is based near London, isn’t it?”

“It is. Frank offered me an internship in the engineering department while I’m in school.” Robert looked a little surprised at this. “Now it’s your turn to look baffled.”

“Probably a little more impressed,” he admitted, sizing her up. Inkeri sat up a little straighter, secretly pleased. “I’m a decent mechanic, but engineering is a different level.”

“Very humble, Kubica. I’ve heard rumours that you’re a very good mechanic. Nico can be a little snobby, but he definitely knew you could build a better kart,” she told him, again wondering if that was a blush or just the neon sign reflecting off his pale skin. “Now, are you going to teach me how to do that,” she pointed at the three men circling a snooker table, “or are you going to keep fishing for compliments?” she taunted, this time, the colour evident on his face.

“You’re impossible,” he grunted, pulling her out of the booth behind him. Inkeri smiled at his back, not missing the fact that he was still holding on to her hand as they made their way over to the tables.

“I feel like this could really be  _ my _ sport. The thing I am meant to kick ass at,” Inkeri declared, spinning the cue in her hands. Robert glanced up from racking the balls, almost grinning at her enthusiasm. It was getting harder and harder to maintain his classic aloof expression around her. Inkeri was well on her way to getting under his skin.

“I don’t know that it’s a sport.” Inkeri looked at him in disbelief.

“It’s the ultimate sport. There’s no running involved, and I’m almost certain you can excel at this without any gym time.” This time, Robert did grin, shaking his head at her.

“Lazy,” he gently chided, smiling wider as she scowled at him.

“I’m not going to respond to that. I’m just going to beat you at this,” she resolved, relaxing her shoulders and gesturing to the table. “What are the rules?” Robert barked out a laugh. “Was that… a laugh? Did I finally crack grumpypants?”

“Oof, don’t call me that,” he grimaced, his face quickly returning to neutral. Inkeri noticed, though, his eyes were still smiling. He wasn’t very expressive, but she was beginning to see that he was at least a little fond of her.

“Grumpykins?”

“Eww, really?” This time he made a face like he had smelled something rotten.

“Captain Stoic?” Inkeri nearly giggled at that one. Especially when Robert rolled his eyes.

“Do you want to learn pool or do you want to keep taunting me?” he asked, chalking his cue.

“Do I have to choose?” He stared at her, conveying that she did indeed have to choose. “Fine, let’s learn something,” she pouted, studying his motions as he lined up the break shot. It looked simple enough. “Wait, I thought I was learning snooker.”

“That’s what I prefer, but pool is what is available,” he replied, not glancing up as he circled the table in search of his next shot. “Snooker can be a little more difficult so this is probably better.”

“It hurts that you have no faith in me. I’m grievously wounded by the total lack…” Kubica turned to face her, putting his hand over her mouth.

“Could we pause this until after the game?” Inkeri narrowed her eyes at him, surprised at his forwardness. In response, Kubica leaned down, brushing his nose against hers. “This is your sport, remember?” She didn’t remember much right now. Her mind was entirely focused on the still-tinging tip of her nose. He was so close she could count each one of his eyelashes.

As quickly as he had invaded her space, he stepped back, continuing on his prowl around the table. Inkeri’s hand raised to cover her mouth, the scent of his skin and the warmth from his palm still lingering. Earlier, he seemed to be carefully feeling out how to act around her, but now, he was giving her a taste of her own teasing.

“I sunk one of the solid colour balls, so that means you will try to get the stripes in the pockets,” he explained, barely missing his intended target the second time. “Keep up, dear,” he chided, grinning as he watched her forcibly refocus. Inkeri nodded, walking around the table to get a decent angle on the white ball. “You’ll want to put…” Feeling overly confident, and still ruffled, she tried to take the shot before he could finish his instructions. Her aim was pitiful at best, the cue ball not even close to hitting the blue and white ball. 

“I meant to do that,” she lied, feigning confidence still. Inkeri missed her next two chances, while Robert continued sinking solids. He intentionally missed his next shot, not wanting to end the game before Inkeri hit at least one ball.

“Ok, come here,” he beckoned, adjusting Inkeri’s stance over the table. “Relax your grip a bit,” he explained, his chest pressed against her back as he ran his arms down hers. His hands wrapped around her much smaller ones, carefully adjusting the way she was holding the cue.

“Interference on the… in the…” she stammered, unsure what to call the ‘pool area’. “General interference,” she finished, feeling goosebumps break out on her skin. Robert chuckled softly, his breath on the back of her neck nearly causing a shiver to run down her spine.

“Interference?” he echoed, not backing off. It felt really nice being this close to her, and he wasn’t sure he could stay away after this.

“Yes. I see why you picked this,” she said, shifting slightly beneath him. Inkeri refocused her thoughts, trying to ignore the way his hands felt on hers. She aimed the cue and took her shot, managing to finally hit a striped ball.

“Much better,” Robert commented, consciously making himself step back. Inkeri stood up, subtly rolling her shoulders. She was completely unaccustomed to the butterflies now flitting around in her stomach.

“You’re a good teacher,” she replied, moving out of his way. “Although,” she began, pausing while he lined up his shot. “If you wanted to touch me, you could have just asked.” His cue nearly missed the cue ball entirely, only managing to move it a few inches as it skimmed the top.

“Very clever trick,” he grumbled, turning to face her. Inkeri merely shrugged, her innocent grin getting to him. “What if I wanted to kiss you?”

“I don’t think I’d mind,” she answered quietly, her previous confidence faltering. She hadn’t mentioned it, but this was her first sort-of date. It was too embarrassing to admit she’d never even been kissed at nearly 20.

“Don’t think you’d mind?” he echoed, stepping closer. Inkeri blinked a few times, surprised that the hairs on her neck were standing up, her whole body already paying attention to how small the gap was between them. Robert leaned in and Inkeri held her breath, waiting, wishing, hoping for him to kiss her. “Now I have to wait until you tell me how much you want me to kiss you,” he said softly, his lips almost brushing hers. Inkeri bit down on her bottom lip, barely stopping herself from whining as he stood back up, putting a step of distance between them again.

Inkeri sat up in bed, hardly believing that it was already race day. The entire weekend had passed by in a blur. After her date with Robert on Thursday, they had decided to take things slow. They could see each other at the next few races and then decide if it was going anywhere. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but Inkeri was already pretty certain it was going somewhere.

She rushed through her morning routine, having slept through her first alarm. There were only two hours until the race and Frank had already called her three times.

“Sorry, I overslept,” she apologized, barely making it into the pits before the teams began moving to the starting grid.

“Maybe Kubica will be a bit slower today.”

“I haven’t seen him away from the track since Thursday!” she exclaimed, a little scandalized by his suggestion. “And don’t make bets on that, old man,” she continued, cutting off whatever he had been about to say.

“Alright, alright,” he agreed, holding up his hands. “Just pretend to root for my boys today.”

“I always do. Besides, Nico could score some good points today,” she reassured, crossing her arms to stop fidgeting as the grid was cleared.

Her eyes stayed focused on the race screen, watching the cars line back up after the formation lap. As the lights went out, Hamilton made a clean start, staying ahead of the pack. She cursed under her breath as his gap continued to grow at the front of the field.

Frank’s eyes were giant as he sat beside her, watching the safety car move out of the pits. Sutil’s car had caught fire, bringing out the safety car and ending Hamilton’s gap.

They both gasped as Hamilton and Rosberg missed the red light at the end of pit lane, Hamilton smashing into the back of Raikkonen; Rosberg subsequently crashed into the back of them and ended his point-scoring possibility. Frank looked fit to be tied, his face red as he struggled to keep his temper in check.

The crash in the pit lane left Heidfeld in the lead, his teammate passing him quickly. Inkeri repeatedly reminded herself to relax, her shoulders tensing as she watched Kubica extend his lead over the field.

Frank muttered more curses, watching as Nakajima, his other driver, was forced to retire. Inkeri cheered silently as the two BMWs crossed the line first, Coulthard finishing third behind them. She didn’t even have to look at Frank to know he wanted her to leave so he could shout some choice words at his drivers.

The podium area was packed full of people and Inkeri hovered around the back, hoping to blend in. She watched as Robert jumped off his car, the biggest smile she had ever seen on his face as he caught her eye. Inkeri felt herself moving through the crowd as a few of the mechanics gently pushed her forward, recognizing her from the brief minutes she had spent in the BMW pit over the weekend. Robert stepped forward to the fence, pulling her into a kiss in front of everyone.

“Life’s short, and I just won a race!” he shouted, as though it explained everything. Inkeri smiled and held onto him for a moment longer.

“Life’s short, and you just won a race,” she agreed, understanding him. He cheered loudly with his team once more before following Heidfeld to the podium, the shorter driver shouting something at him. 


	4. 5 July 2008 - British Grand Prix

5 July 2008 - British Grand Prix

“Finish watching the session,” Frank urged, waving Inkeri away from the crowd of mechanics around Rosberg’s Williams. “We know it’s a suspension problem,” he added, referring to the trouble with Rosberg’s car. He had failed to make it past Q3 and would be starting from pit lane. 

“I’ll keep an eye on Nakajima,” Inkeri replied, turning back to the monitor. 

“I’m sure that’s who you’re watching for,” he chuckled, turning back to the pages of telemetry in front of him. Inkeri grinned, not looking back at him. 

She watched the fifteen minute session carefully, disappointed, but unsurprised, to see Nakajima only get the second Williams to fifteenth on the starting grid. Robert managed to get into the final session. Something looked off with his car, though, as he pulled into his garage. 

A few minutes later, Inkeri stepped out of the William’s pit, looking down pit lane towards Robert’s garage. Other cars were headed to the track for Q1, but he still hadn’t emerged. 

The ten minute session came to an end with Kubica never leaving the pits. Inkeri rejoined the Williams mechanics, taking notes on their discussion. She took a quick glance at her phone after they had finished, but there were no messages. She and Robert were supposed to be meeting tonight, so she guessed he would just wait and talk to her then. Hopefully he wouldn’t be in the dark mood she was anticipating. 

It seemed to be a lost hope, though, as she looked at the clock. It was already an hour past their meet up time. Inkeri tried calling Robert again, but there was still no answer. She shrugged and grabbed her keys off the counter. “Guess I’m coming to you,” she muttered, glad there weren’t tons of people milling around outside.

She made her way through the maze of motorhomes, waving at Fernando as he walked past. He made an exaggerated grimace at her. 

“Robert is very, very grumpy,” he warned. “He said maybe five words after quali.”

“So not much different than usual,” Inkeri grinned, walking up to Robert’s door. She knocked twice, listening for any sign of movement inside. Silence. She knocked again, still hearing nothing. “Kuuuubica, are you in there?” she called through the closed door. Finally, there were footsteps moving toward the door. 

“I thought not answering your calls might explain for me. I don’t want to talk.” 

“Oof, Nando was right. You’re crabby as hell,” she responded, not backing down the stairs. “So we sit in silence together.” Kubica gave her a look that clearly showed he didn’t believe her. Inkeri shrugged. “I can manage it. I’ll just stare at your silly hair.” 

Kubica rolled his eyes but stepped back to let her in. Inkeri grinned at him and reached up to smooth some of his wild helmet hair. Robert caught her hand before she pulled away, pressing a kiss to her palm. 

“Bad day.” He let go of her hand and moved back to the table. It was covered in papers. Inkeri sat down across from him, staying quiet. 

Robert sorted through the pages, making sporadic notes or scratching things out. He glanced up a few times, but Inkeri just grinned, enjoying how he looked when he focused. There was something very attractive about the firm set of his jaw or the way it relaxed when he absently chewed on the end of his pen. 

“Can I ask you a technical question or is that off-limits with your team-involvement?” Inkeri shook her head and moved to sit next to him. 

“I can’t tell you about what’s going on in the Williams specifically but I can answer your question on this,” she explained, looking down at the diagram. “I also won’t blab about anything I see in here.”

Robert nodded before launching into a series of questions about the papers he was holding. Inkeri followed along, pointing out certain things she noticed. They bounced ideas back and forth, eventually starting their own sketch of an ECU.

Inkeri grinned as she noticed Robert had fallen asleep, his head no longer just leaning over the papers. Instead, his forehead was pressed to the table and he was snoring softly. As she considered waking him, she noticed something that might be his problem. There was a small flaw in the wiring loom. 

She hurriedly made notations on the diagram, suggesting a small rearrangement to two of the wires. This would change the way the actuators received the electrical signal. Hopefully, it would connect properly and open the air flaps to increase torque. 

The new diagram completed, she glanced at the time. It was well after one a.m. 

“Kubi,” she murmured, gently nudging him. “That’s not a good place to sleep.” He groaned as he sat up, stretching his neck. 

“It’s a  _ really _ bad place to sleep,” he agreed, moving out of the booth after her. 

“You need to get some real sleep before the race. Take this down to your crew and then get to bed,” she suggested, handing him the new sketch. “I don’t know that it will help, but maybe it will give them some new ideas.” 

“How did I miss that?” he asked, looking over the now-obvious flaw. He rubbed at his eyes, obviously exhausted.

“Sometimes it just takes fresh eyes,” Inkeri shrugged, starting to take a step back. She really did need to let him get to bed. 

“Thank you,” he said, pulling her into a sudden hug. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. I don’t…”

“It’s ok,” she interrupted, wrapping her arms around his waist. “You opened the door, eventually.” Robert chuckled, slowly releasing her. “I did come here to ask you something, though. If you have Monday off, would you like to stay an extra day in the city? I finally got that apartment I was telling you about.” Robert smiled broadly. 

“Just Monday?” Kubica raised a brow, wondering if he could talk her into letting him stay longer.

“See, I wanted to say as many days as you can spare but I didn’t want to seem clingy,” Inkeri blushed, toying with her keys. 

“I can take a few days off,” he replied coyly, watching her face light up. He didn’t  _ have _ to admit he had been hoping for that all along.

“Now that that’s settled, I should probably…” Inkeri trailed off, gesturing towards the door. She looked at him for a few more moments, clearly torn between  _ knowing _ she should go and  _ wanting _ to go. “Fuck it,” she muttered under her breath, taking two quick steps toward him. Robert grinned, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss. Inkeri stood on her tiptoes so he didn’t have to stoop as much, slipping her arms around his neck. 

“I’ll find you after the race,” he said softly, pulling back. Inkeri nodded, resting her forehead against his chest for a second. 

“I like this kissing thing a lot.” 

“Do you?” Kubica chuckled, leaning back so he could look down at her red cheeks. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? It’s late,” she deflected, turning around and heading for the door. He grinned after her, watching as she jogged away. 

The next day, the race did not go at all as planned. It had been raining all morning and the track was soaked. No one looked very excited to go out on the slippery surface. However, by lap 21 the track was beginning to dry out. 

Several teams brought their drivers in for new slicks, betting on the rain holding off for the rest of the race. Raikkonen stayed out on intermediates and slowly began to drop back through the field. 

Inkeri held her breath as Kubica passed Kovalainen for third place. His car was working properly and she couldn’t deny hoping for a much happier Kubica to make the long train ride with. 

Kubica slid off the track on lap 35 and again on lap 37. She crossed her fingers as he rejoined the track without any obvious damage. He was still maintaining a competitive pace but the rain was continuing to fall harder. 

Finally, on lap 40, Kubica’s luck ran out. He lost control and wound up beached in a gravel trap, his race over. 

“Shit,” Inkeri muttered, looking over at Frank’s equally grim face. The race continued, Rosberg making a massive mistake that cost him his front wing. In the end, only one of the Williams had managed to score a point. One single point. 

“At least Kubica is only two points behind in the championship,” Frank groused, chucking his clipboard onto the table. “I’m going to shave Rosberg’s pretty blond hair.” Inkeri grimaced, hoping her exaggerated expression would mask the laugh she was fighting. She could just imagine Frank angrily rolling after a screaming Rosberg. “I can see that grin. Hide it before dinner tonight or Claire will spend all night telling me to leave you alone.” 

“Oh, actually, I sort of have plans tonight,” Inkeri mentioned, hoping Frank wouldn’t ask a dozen prying questions. He raised one stern brow at her. 

“Plans? After the home race?” 

“Um, yes,” she gulped, suddenly feeling the pressure of having Frank in the same paddock with her crush. 

“Are these secret plans?” he pressed, grinning as he saw the blush rising on her cheeks. “Boy plans?” 

“I invited Robert to have dinner in the city,” she fibbed, wincing as Frank scrutinized her harder. 

“I’m going to call you every half hour to make sure you aren’t getting up to anything.” 

“I’ll answer, naked or not,” Inkeri blurted, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh, look. Rosberg’s back already,” she pointed, sneaking out of the garage when Frank turned to look at his driver. He hmpfed as he noticed she was gone. 

Inkeri slowed as she approached Kubica’s garage. He was already showered and dressed in casual clothes, a very annoyed look on his face as he glared at the car. She wondered if a raincheck might be a better idea. 

“Fuck this weekend,” he grumbled as he walked out to meet her. “Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed Inkeri’s hand and took off toward the car park. 

“Hey, don’t you have to do interviews?” Inkeri asked, making a surprised noise as he pulled her along. She jogged for a few strides, catching up to walk beside him. “Rob… Kubica…”

“What?” he snapped, glancing down as Inkeri yanked her hand free. She came to a halt and stared at him, her eyes slowly narrowing as he stayed silent. Robert took a deep breath and walked back to her, knowing he should explain. Inkeri wasn’t going to let him get away with being so rude. “Will you give me time before I talk about it?” Inkeri nodded, her expression immediately softening. 

“You just have to ask, Kubi, not drag me off like some caveman. We’re still learning about each other.” 

“Kubi?” he repeated, the corner of his mouth quirking up. Inkeri blushed a bit as she shrugged. “Right now, I want to go somewhere quiet where no one is going to ask me questions about grip or handling. Also, where I can’t embarrass myself further in front of the girl I like,” he admitted, ducking his head. 

“My neighbor can be loud on the weekends, but I guarantee no one will be asking about racing. Plus, I happen to live above a pie shop,” she grinned, holding out her hand. 

“Who can resist pie?” Kubica responded, taking her outstretched hand. 

“So about this girl....” Kubica groaned but followed along to the taxi stand, hoping Inkeri couldn’t see his grin. 

  
  
  



	5. 6 July 2008 - London, England

“The door sticks a little,” Inkeri explained, trying to hide her frustration as her front door refused to open. She bumped her shoulder into it more forcefully, squeaking as the door finally gave way, leaving her tumbling across the threshold, the pizza box in her hands nearly dropping. 

“You should call someone about that,” Kubica suggested, surprised at how protective he felt. The apartment wasn’t terrible, but he still didn’t like the idea of her all alone in a run down area of town. 

“Yea, I will soon. I’ve just been out of town,” Inkeri shrugged, sweeping her hand out to draw his attention to the rest of the apartment. “It’s not much, but it’s mine,” she smiled, beckoning him into the tiny flat. It was made up of two rooms, a very small bedroom and a slightly larger area that contained the kitchen and sitting area. The wallpaper was peeling and the kitchen floor bore a black spot that looked suspiciously charred. 

“Your window doesn’t latch!” His mouth dropped open a little as he noticed the twine tying the window shut. She dropped their dinner onto the kitchen table with a thud, marching over to him. 

“Ok, ok. Stop scrutinizing and just let me enjoy my independence,” she chided, pulling him away from the broken latch. “This is my first apartment and I’m quite proud of it,” she continued, picking at the corner of a moving box. 

“Sorry,” he relented, walking back to the little kitchen area. “I’m being rude again,” he added sheepishly. 

“Just a little, but you can probably earn my forgiveness.” Kubica looked a little hesitant but overall very excited. 

“How would I do that?” 

“Down boy,” she giggled, rolling her eyes. “Just let me peek behind the wall.” He sobered a little, torn between how much he wanted to let her in and how cautious he felt he should be. 

“That goes both ways,” he replied after a long pause, holding her gaze. Inkeri nodded, sitting down next to him. “Just go easy on me,” Kubica implored, raising an eyebrow as she shrugged. 

“I’m always easy!” she protested, both of them staring at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. She opened the box and took out a slice of pizza, “I’m going to put food in my mouth instead of my foot.” Robert was still grinning, something a little wicked around the corners of his eyes. “Why does Rosberg have it out for you?” Inkeri blurted, suddenly remembering the face Nico made when she mentioned meeting Kubica after qualifying.

“Is that an easy question?” he flinched, reaching for his own slice. 

“You flustered me. I didn’t have time to think up something like what’s your favourite season.” 

“ _ I _ flustered you?” he questioned, wondering if he could distract her from the racing question. Inkeri started to turn pink, her eyes staring intently down at the napkin in front of her. 

“Look, listen, honestly, truthfully,” she babbled, starting to gesture with her hands. “Just being around you sort of flusters me. I like you, I mean, I really like you and this feels very date-like. I am nervous,” she admitted, emphasizing the last word. Inkeri finally went silent, a sense of dread creeping over her as she realised how much she had said. “I wasn’t going to let you be the only one embarrassing yourself. Although, I don’t think you sliding off track in the wet…” 

“Inks,” he interrupted, putting his food down to grab her hands. “I like you, too. I would call this a date, a third date, actually. Pool, wasting your night on my ECU, and now, dinner,” he said, ticking them off on his fingers. 

“Last night wasn’t a date,” she disagreed, shaking her head. Kubica released her hands and went back to eating. 

“It ended with a kiss,” he shrugged. 

“Well I’ll be damned, we’re dating,” Inkeri grinned, feeling pleased with this news. “Now you really do have to tell me why Nico grimaces at the mere mention of your name.” Kubica grumbled and shook his head. 

“I used to build his karts. He made some comments about me not understanding how they worked, so I told everyone I was doing all the work. He just showed up for races.” 

“Wish I could have seen that. He can be a little much sometimes,” she agreed, nodding along with him. “How did you wind up helping him?” 

“I needed money for my own karting season,” he said plainly, walking over to the fridge. “I don’t know why I expected there to be anything in here,” he chuckled, looking over the barren shelves.

“Me either. There’s bottled water under the sink or two bottles of red wine next to it,” Inkeri replied, closing up the nearly empty pizza box. “How old were you?”

“Isn’t it my turn for questions?” Inkeri nodded, grinning sheepishly. “Why does Coulthard act like a mother hen around you?” She groaned, knowing it was a fair question. It didn’t make it any more fun to talk about, though. 

“If you want to talk about that, it’s definitely a wine night,” she replied, grabbing two coffee mugs from the cabinet. “And not one word about these being my only cups,” she added, pointing a finger at him. Kubica held his hands up in surrender. 

Inkeri handed him the cups and pushed back the curtain hiding the under-sink area, grabbing the closest bottle. Kubica watched her struggle for a moment with the corkscrew before depositing the mugs on the small end table next to the couch. He came back into the kitchen and took the bottle and opener from her, easily pulling the cork free. 

“Show off,” she muttered, following him to the couch. “Coulthard was the test driver at WIlliams when my dad was working for the team,” she began, taking the cup Kubica offered. Inkeri turned sideways on the couch, facing him. “I think I was four when he started with the team. He came from a big family so he sort of just started looking after me when he wasn’t helping with testing. We built a lot of Lego.” Inkeri paused, taking a long sip before continuing. “After Senna, Frank convinced my dad to let me go live with Ginny and Claire for a while. He didn’t want me at the track after that. Claire did not enjoy the idea of a little sister hanging around, but she moved out a few months after I got there,” she grinned, remembering how nice Ginny had been to her. “My dad quit just the next year, though, so I moved back with him.” 

“So you really did grow up in the paddock,” Kubica mentioned, reaching over to pull Inkeri’s legs across his lap. 

“Oh yea,” Inkeri nodded, “Definitely a paddock baby. What about you? Grow up on a karting track?” 

“Sort of. There was just one track near where I lived. I got really familiar with it. I didn’t get to do a real full season until I was about 13. I moved to Italy with a team and that was it,” he explained, resting his arms over her knees. 

“Was teenage Kubica as stern as current Kubica?” 

“I’m not stern.” Inkeri snorted. 

“Definitely not, you’re the absolute life of the party. The whole paddock is always gossiping about the happy-go-lucky Pole. ‘He’s such a chatterbox. Kubica is everyone’s best friend.’,” she laughed, poking him in the stomach. 

“Is picking on me your favourite activity?” 

“It’s pretty fun,” Inkeri admitted, nodding. “So, favourite season?” 

“Are we making this a game now?” he asked, finishing off his wine. 

“We did the big chat, might as well get some of the easy ones,” she grinned. 

“I like spring. You?”

“Winter. It’s dark and cold, perfect excuse to stay in bed all day. You can’t just turn my questions around, either,” she chided, holding out her glass for a refill. 

“Ok, winter if it’s not snowing. Although, we can stay in bed all day no matter the season,” he winked. 

“Snow is the best bit! Snowball fights, snow angels,” she argued, ignoring his comment. The idea of staying in bed with Kubica was definitely tempting, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to take the conversation there. 

“Maybe a little snow,” he conceded. “Favourite book?” 

“Dracula. Favourite band?” His eyebrows raised a little but he didn’t comment.

“Deftones,” he said after a moment of thought. Inkeri bounced a little, scooting closer to him. 

“That’s my favourite, too!” 

The bottle now empty, the conversation had migrated from favourites to sitting together quietly, listening to music on the radio. Inkeri was still turned sideways on the couch but they had ended up so close together that she was practically on his lap. Robert had noticed, but he didn’t point it out for fear of her scooting away. He realised how late it had gotten when Inkeri’s head dropped onto his shoulder, a giant yawn escaping her. 

“I kept you up last night, so I should probably let you get some sleep,” he said softly, rearranging her so he could get up from the couch. Robert reached for her hand, pulling her to her feet. 

Inkeri leaned against him, her eyes still closed. He grinned and kissed the side of her head, surprised at how quickly her energy had run down.

“Sleep,” she mumbled, wandering towards her bed. Inkeri paused in the doorway, turning her head to look at him. She cracked one eye open and frowned at him. “The couch is little,” she murmured, giving him a ‘this way’ gesture before disappearing into the dark room. 

“Just sleep,” he repeated to himself, taking a deep breath. 

Inkeri woke up a few hours later, slightly disoriented from falling asleep with her contacts in. She started to stretch but went still as she realised Kubica was in bed with her. His breathing was still even so she risked a glance at him, slowly remembering that she had invited him into her room, and shucked her jeans at some point. The complete exhaustion had knocked out her rational thinking. 

After a few moments, she realised Kubica’s eyes were open. He was laying on his side facing her, one hand reaching out to softly brush the hair from her forehead. 

“Kochanie,” he murmured, his dark eyes following his fingertips as they traced over her face. His hand trailed down to her neck and he looked back at her eyes. It was so quiet Inkeri was certain he could hear her heart beating. Here, in the dark, everything felt so much more intimate. 

“Please kiss me,” she whispered, glad he couldn’t see the flush spreading over her chest in the darkness of her room. The way he was staring at her ignited a completely different type of butterflies in her stomach. Robert’s grip tightened slightly on the back of her neck, his fingers carding through her hair as he leaned over her. 

Inkeri barely had time to be ashamed of how tightly her hands gripped his shirt as he kissed her, hungrily, desperately. Every thought she had was now completely focused on the sensation of his tongue exploring hers, his hand leaving a trail of fire as it slid under her shirt. 

She tugged at the hem of his shirt and Robert obliged, pulling back just long enough to let her pull it over his head. He sat up a little more, giving her room to sit up. 

Inkeri yanked her shirt over her head, her skin too hot, the fabric smothering her. Her fingers dug into Robert’s shoulders as she tugged him down onto the bed with her. Everything felt like too much and not enough. 

He moved back over her, feeling encouraged by the sounds escaping her as he sucked a small bruise on her collarbone. His thumb tentatively pushed under the leg of her underwear, stroking the skin of her hip beneath the fabric. Robert’s hand slowly moved lower. 

“Wait, wait,” Inkeri choked out, her nerves suddenly hitting. 

“What’s wrong?” He noticed how tense she had suddenly become, moving his hand to a safer place. He was also careful to keep his eyes on her face. 

“Nothing, I-I,” she stammered, wishing she could ignore the little nervous pit in her stomach. 

“Kochanie, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” he reassured, rolling so that he was next to her. 

“No, it’s not… I  _ do _ want this, I just… I’ve never…” she began again, unable to finish her sentence. Robert leaned up on his elbow, still keeping his eyes on hers. Inkeri squeezed her eyes shut, covering her face with her hands. “It’s your turn to embarrass yourself, not mine,” she whined, peeking out between her fingers when he chuckled. 

“If we hadn’t paused, I definitely would have.” Inkeri grinned despite how she was feeling. “There’s no rush,” he added, pulling one hand away from her face. 

“I want this,” she repeated, using their linked hands to pull him towards her. “I just need to go a little slow.” Robert grinned, the smile still evident on his mouth as he kissed her. 

“This is one thing I can do slowly.” Inkeri nodded, the corner of her mouth quirked upwards as she looked at him. This was what it felt like to really trust someone. 


	6. 11 December 2008 - London, University of London Campus

Robert shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked up at the tall buildings. It was daunting with its traditional brick façade and central tower. It certainly looked every inch the top university it was purported to be.

He had never spent much time on formal education. Most of his life had been spent moving around, going from track to track consistently. By the time he was a teenager, he had moved to a new country entirely, leaving behind his friends and family. It had never bothered him, but looking up at this building, he was again reminded of how sharp Inkeri was.

The winter air was crisp, a few snow flurries kicking up around him. Robert glanced at his watch, wondering if he had gotten Inkeri’s schedule wrong. He wasn’t the best at surprises, and the longer he stood there, the less confident he felt about his plan. Maybe this was a silly idea.

All of his worries melted as he heard a squeal behind him, barely spinning around in time to catch Inkeri as she crashed into him. She tugged him into a messy kiss, standing on her tiptoes to get just a little closer. Robert smiled against her lips, feeling very pleased at the reception he was receiving.

“You’re here!” she squeaked, stepping back enough to look at him. “Did I know you were coming? Oh god, did I forget you were coming?” she babbled, almost vibrating with energy. Robert appearing here was the absolute icing on her last day of finals.

“I’m a surprise,” he answered, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Deep breaths,” he grinned, miming the action for her. Inkeri rolled her eyes.

“My boyfriend I rarely see has just shown up. I think I get to be very excited,” she replied, bouncing on her heels for emphasis. He didn’t entirely join her merriment, and she wondered if it was because they were in public, or because she had just called him her boyfriend. “Ooh, that sounds strange. Is it strange?”

“Do you want me to be your boyfriend?” he asked, immediately following her train of thought. As far as he was concerned, they were already at that point, label or not. 

“Nope, not turning it back on me,” she said, walking a few paces away. She glanced back over her shoulder, hoping he would follow. “You want me all to yourself, you have to say it,” she taunted, grinning at his pink cheeks. Robert rarely talked about what he was feeling.

“I flew across an ocean during my very short winter break. Isn’t it obvious?” he replied, following after her. Inkeri paused, wondering if it really should have been that obvious.

“Am I really that oblivious?” she asked, more to herself. She had stopped mid-stride, brows furrowed as she thought about it. Robert reached for her hand, twining their fingers together as he raised the back of it to his lips.

“You must be. I’m clearly falling in love with you,” he confessed, his grin widening as Inkeri blinked a few times, caught off guard by his honesty. For a quiet guy, Robert was very open when asked directly about things. 

“Well, then…” she began, willing her heart to stop beating quite so violently against her ribs. Things had been feeling serious between them, but it was still such an incredible relief to know it wasn’t one-sided. She hadn’t built this up in her head, it was real. “Thank you for the clarification.” Kubica chuckled, no longer confused by Inkeri’s habit of covering up her excitement with formality. It was her tell, to put it in poker terms. If she was the one with the upper hand, she stuck to sarcasm and wit. Turn that around though, and she reverted to an attempt at unbothered politeness.

“Any time, kochanie.” Inkeri smiled back at him, feeling more secure with her relationship. She started walking again, leading the way to her tiny apartment.

“So if I needed this explained to me in further detail…” she trailed off, unlocking the front door of her building.

“I am known as a man of action, not words,” he declared, pinching her bum as she climbed the stairs to her flat. Inkeri nearly skipped a step at the unexpected contact, swatting at his hand. She giggled and ran up the next two flights as he gave chase, trying to goose her again.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Robert asked, slightly unnerved by the way Inkeri had been looking at him. There was a small smile on her lips that had been unmoved for the past fifteen minutes. It wasn’t an unpleasant face by any means, but it was still strange being watched in such a manner while all he did was sit across from her in a little booth.

“Can’t I enjoy being on a normal date with you?” she asked, tilting her head, that little grin still in place.

“We’ve been on dates before.” He began thinking back, wondering if they really hadn’t been out like this. It couldn’t have just been room service on race weekends or movies together over the phone, could it? “We went to a bar a few months ago,” he said, feeling better that he had properly taken her out and worse that it had been nearly five months ago.

Inkeri rolled her eyes. “Ok, we’ve been out once and you were still in strict race mode. I don’t exactly think water and some energy bar you smuggled in counts as normal,” she countered, her smile only widening as she sensed he was about to concede. “And, when some overly forward drunk uni student hits on me, I won’t be accused of making you up.”

“You’ve brought me here to show me off?” he scoffed, feigning offense with a hand over his mouth.

“How did you discover my dastardly plan?” she retorted with a wry grin, shaking her head. “Same thing?” she asked, pointing to his now-empty pint glass. Kubica nodded his head, grinning as he watched her walk up to the bar.

Inkeri leaned against the counter, waiting her turn. She glanced back at Robert over her shoulder, pleased to see he was still watching her. The barman turned to her after another minute, taking her order.

“Shit,” he murmured, glancing up as she sat the beers down on the table. “Team stuff,” he explained, holding his ringing mobile phone up. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s ok. This late at night it’s probably important,” she replied, smiling as she sat down. Robert squeezed her elbow as he walked past, slipping out of the noisy pub to take the call. It was a nice change dating someone who understood the importance of his career.

“Mind if I join you?” an unexpected voice asked. Inkeri briefly glanced at the stranger, trying to mask her look of annoyance.

“No, that seat’s taken,” she replied curtly, clearly displeased with the uninvited guest who had just sat down at her table.

“Empty right now,” he shrugged, bumping her foot under the table.

“There’s lots of other empty seats,” she said, motioning to the table next to hers. The man tapped her foot again and Inkeri pulled her legs up, crossing them under her. “If you don’t mind, fuck off.” Her patience was worn thin, tired of the stranger invading her space.

“You should be nicer.” Inkeri’s eyes narrowed, wanting to throw her drink in his face.

“I’m outside for two minutes and you replace me,” Kubica interrupted, grinning at the annoyance on her face. He always liked how feisty she was. Little Inkeri wouldn’t be bullied and it made him love her a little bit more.

“This guy?” the stranger asked, glancing between Robert and Inkeri.

“Yea, yea, this guy. Shoo,” Robert said calmly, waving the guy off with his hand. The man got up slowly, still looking surprised.

“I just want to see how you fit that massive nose into the booth.”

“Funny,” Kubica grumbled, keeping his eyes focused on Inkeri. Jokes about his appearance were nothing new, and he had long since stopped being bothered by them. “What?” he questioned, catching the still simmering frustration on Inkeri’s face. 

“Some stranger was trying to steal your girlfriend and you just casually shoo them away,” she replied, a little bothered that he wasn’t the slightest bit concerned.

“Sorry, did I interrupt? Was he nearly successful?” Robert joked, surprised that someone with her confidence would want him to be jealous. He trusted her completely and figured that would be a good thing.

“No, I just…” she huffed, feeling silly. “Sometimes it’s nice to feel wanted,” she murmured, knowing that wasn’t the reason for his lack of reaction. Inkeri had spent all semester watching her friends date, holding hands, dancing closely, stealing very obvious kisses on group nights out. An unfamiliar part of her really wanted that.

“Kochanie,” he began, wondering where this was coming from. Their relationship would always be more long distance than a normal one. Was this a sign that maybe she couldn’t handle it?

“It’s ok,” she interrupted, glancing down at her phone to avoid the concerned look in his eyes. “I’m just glad you’re here. Would you want to meet some of my friends after this? Today was the end of finals so everyone’s out celebrating,” she continued, brushing off her lingering feelings. 

“Of course. You can parade me in front of everyone,” he agreed, smiling despite the questions now in his head.

Two hours later, Robert was struggling to remember anyone’s names. Inkeri had a fairly small group of friends, but it seemed like everyone had brought all of the people they had ever met at uni.

“Kubi, do you want to dance?” Inkeri shouted, hoping he could hear her over the music. She twirled around on her toes, trying to pull him along with her. He caught her as she overspun, a little off balance on her high heels thanks to the slippery wood floor. 

“Dance with your friends. I’ll be out there in a little bit,” he replied after steadying her, knowing he was a terrible dancer. Maybe she would get caught up having fun and forget to make him embarrass himself.

“Filthy, you just want to watch,” Inkeri winked, putting a little more sway into her hips as she walked away.

He watched her moving to the music, her group of friends slowly pairing off with people on the dance floor. Halfway through the second song, Inkeri was the only one left. He caught the glances she gave her friends, suddenly wondering why he wasn’t out there. He was here, physically, and it finally clicked that Inkeri just wanted a small bit of what was normal for the people around her.

One brave boy finally put his hand on Inkeri’s shoulder, trying to turn her to dance with him. She shook her head and removed his hand. Robert nearly grinned, the jealous moment perfectly presenting itself. He marched out into the crowd and grabbed Inkeri, one arm snagging her around the waist and pulling her against his chest. His other hand threaded through the short strands at the back of her head, tilting it back so he could kiss her.

Inkeri couldn’t help the moan that escaped into his mouth, hers opening enough to allow his tongue entrance. The hand at her waist had now slipped under the back of her shirt, his palm hot against her bare skin. She hooked her fingers into his belt loops, feeling like her legs might give way if she didn’t hold onto him. Kubica broke the kiss, pressing his lips against the skin beneath her ear.

“I want you all to myself,” he said, staying close to her ear so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice. He grinned, glad to hide his smug smile against her skin as he felt a shiver run through her. “Nothing will change that, Inks.” She nodded, pulling him into another quick kiss before he stepped back.

“We should probably go,” she said breathlessly. Inkeri was staring at him in a way that made him feel like the only person in her world tonight. 

“What? I thought you wanted to dance?” he asked, chuckling as she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the exit. Robert kept her close against his side as they stepped into the cold night air.

“I love you,” she said, looking up at him as they walked.

“I love you, too.” The words might have been simple, but he felt them resonate in his chest. Inkeri had his heart completely and it was exhilarating. He was pretty certain that this was forever, but he figured it was best to keep those thoughts to himself for now. “Think you’re ready to be in my pit at the next race?”

“I don’t think I’d mind,” she grinned, glancing over at him again. He tried to look put out but he couldn’t hide the smile already spreading on his face. There were rumours about them already, but Inkeri’s presence in his garage would make them fact. 

Robert handed Inkeri a cup of coffee, taking a seat on the little couch next to her. She barely glanced up from the article she was reading, curling against his side like it was second nature. Kubica settled his arm around her, a faint smile on his lips as he watched her read. The crease between her eyes deepened as she highlighted a passage. 

“We need a signal for when it’s ok to interrupt you,” he commented, grinning as she marked one more sentence before finally looking up at him. Inkeri’s eyes brightened, almost as though she had just now really registered his presence. 

“You, sir,” she paused, leaning in to kiss him softly, “are always welcome to interrupt me. Well, unless it’s finals week,” she added. Inkeri tossed the papers onto the table in front of them, taking a long sip of her coffee. “Can’t you just stay forever and make coffee every morning?” she asked, closing her eyes to fully appreciate the taste. 

“Damn, if only you had asked before I signed an extension with BMW. I could have left F1 and devoted my whole life to making your coffee.” Inkeri raised a brow at him. 

“Someone’s a little extra cheeky this morning.” 

“I talked to my dad this morning. He wants me to come home for Christmas,” Robert explained. 

“Ah, the mysterious father I’ve barely heard about. Do you not usually go home for the holidays?” she asked, wondering if he would finally talk a little bit more about his childhood. 

“Not really. The first few years living at the factory, I couldn’t afford it. Now, I pretend I’m too busy,” he admitted. He tensed up a little and Inkeri took it as another sign that his relationship with his family wasn’t the most comfortable. “What do you usually do for Christmas?” 

“Last year, I went to Frank’s, but before that…” Inkeri squinted, trying to think if she had any holiday traditions. “I don’t think I did anything specific. Oh, wait, I watch the same movie every year.” 

“So if this movie was available in, I don’t know, my hometown, you might come home with me?” he waffled, his ears tinged pink. 

“Is the secretive Robert Kubica actually inviting me to his family Christmas? What if I actually learn something about you before last year? Oh my god, what if I see baby photos?” Robert didn’t need to say anything for Inkeri to clearly read the, ‘Are you done?’, in his head tilt. “I would love to go home with you,” she said, looking very earnestly at him. “I make jokes when I get nervous.” 

“Nervous?” he questioned, already knowing this about her. 

“It’s a bit of a serious thing, isn’t it? Meeting the family? I’ve never met anyone’s parents before. I’m suddenly very concerned with how to impress them. Do you think they will like me? I mean, you like me so maybe…” she babbled, only pausing when she realised he was laughing. “Why are you laughing?”

“I  _ love _ you,” he emphasized, leaning forward to place his mug and Inkeri’s on the table. “My family will think the same as I do, that you must be crazy to be with me because you are so far out of my league.” Inkeri rolled her eyes. 

“Very not true…” Robert gently put a finger against her lips, stopping her sentence. 

“They will like you, but if, a very far-fetched if, they do not, it won’t change anything,” he reassured, briefly glancing at his watch before looking back at her. “Now, we have about seven hours before we have to be at Frank’s for that dinner you promised him. How far back should I start?” 

“You are so much better than I could have ever imagined,” she murmured, resuming her place nestled under his arm. “From the top, pierogi.” Kubica made a disgruntled noise and leaned his head back against the couch. 

“How many times do we have to talk about this?” 

“None more?” Inkeri suggested, adjusting so that she was mostly draped across his chest, barely having to tilt her head up to kiss his neck. 

“Because you’ll stop it?” 

“Oh, sweet, darling, wonderful…”

“Oh, no,” he groaned, knowing where she was headed. 

“Pierogi,” she giggled, nipping just under his jaw. Despite his protestations, he tilted his head to the side, his hand around her waist tightening. “Should I keep going?” she taunted, feeling pleasantly powerful as he attempted a shrug. Inkeri moved out of his grasp, letting herself slide onto the floor to kneel in front of him. “Wasn’t much of an answer,” she commented absently, trailing her hands up his thighs. 

“Please, please keep going,” he urged, lifting his hips as her fingers tugged at the waistband of his shorts. His eyes darkened as he watched her press messy open-mouthed kisses to his inner thigh as she travelled back up, holding his gaze. “You’re going to train me so that every time someone says pierogi I’m going to get a fucking… oh my god,” he groaned, head falling back on the sofa with a thunk.

Frank didn’t think he had ever seen Inkeri or Robert as happy as they were arriving at his house. The weather outside was miserably cold and rainy, but Inkeri’s smile could have melted any ice forming. Despite feeling like her guardian, he couldn’t help but grin and shake his head at the sight of Robert’s ruffled hair and Inkeri’s slightly smudged lipstick. If he ever managed to get one of them to look away from the other, the affection was quite plain to see in their eyes. 

“Sorry we’re a bit late, train delays,” Inkeri apologised, hugging Frank. 

“Train delays,” he repeated, his expression proof that he didn’t believe her. “I remember what new love feels like.” Frank nearly gaped at the sight of Robert’s smile. The young Pole was famously stoic but it appeared that his shell had cracked a little.

“I told her we were going to miss the train but the shoes wouldn’t speak,” Robert shrugged, stepping up to shake Frank’s hand. Frank took a moment to appraise him, not knowing much about him outside of his budding F1 reputation. The paddock chat came with plenty of positives and negatives about the driver. 

“You don’t need to worry until she hides under a table,” Frank assured him, returning the warm expression. “Have you experienced that yet?” 

“Grades for the semester got released last week.” 

“Well,” Frank exhaled, pleasantly surprised at Kubica’s resolve. “Since you’re still here, I feel like it is my duty as a father-figure to ask about your intentions.” Robert let out a quiet laugh, unbothered by the question. 

“I love her,” he said plainly, his eyes travelling to where Inkeri had wandered into the kitchen. She laughed loudly at something Claire said, her cheeks going pink when Ginny scolded both of them. “For me, it’s very serious,” he admitted, preempting Frank’s next question. 

“I have very few regrets in my life, but one of the biggest involves that girl,” Frank said, following Kubica’s gaze. “She’s very special to my family.”

“I wouldn’t have let it get this far if I wasn’t sure.” Frank nodded, feeling more reassured than he had expected. 

“You have a reputation in the paddock. People think you’re a little reckless but very talented. They also say you’re loyal and singularly devoted to the things that matter to you. As long as you remember there’s more to life than racing,” Frank began, looking over at his wife and daughter setting the table. “You’ll always have more than the rest of them.”


	7. 24 December 2008 - Krakow, Poland

Robert put his hands on Inkeri’s shoulders, feeling how tense she was. He mimed taking a deep breath before leaning down to look into her eyes. Inkeri kept her chin tilted down but let her gaze catch his. 

“Should I be flattered by how nervous you are?” Inkeri rolled her eyes. “However much they hate you, I promise I won’t go anywhere,” Robert reassured, grinning at the slight panic in her eyes. She took a quick breath, pushing the nerves away. 

“I’m not worried about that. You’re like one of those haunted dolls. No matter how hard I try to get rid of you, you just keep showing up,” Inkeri scoffed, melting against his chest as he pulled her in. 

“There she is,” he chuckled, kissing the side of her head. Inkeri sensed the subtle change in his demeanour as he turned to face the door, one arm still tightly around her. Despite no visible shift in his expression, Inkeri could see the tension in his neck as he stood a little taller.

“Kubi,” she said softly, reaching up to link her fingers with his. “I love you.” Robert’s smile looked more genuine as he watched her press a kiss to the back of his hand. 

“You should be careful looking at me like that.” Inkeri cocked a brow at him. “I might slip up and say things like…” They both jumped as the door flew open. An older man with hard, dark eyes stared at them. 

“Don’t keep your mother waiting,” he said tersely, his expression very unwelcoming. 

“I’m sorry, I should have kept track,” Robert apologized, suddenly looking smaller under his father’s stare. Instead of a reply, the man walked back into the house, leaving the door open. 

Inkeri followed Robert into the house, pausing just inside. His body language had shifted and she wanted to keep a close eye on him. Timid had never been in his vocabulary before.

“I’ll put your coat away,” he offered, taking the jacket from her. Robert automatically reached for an empty hanger in the hall closet, flinching when his father called something out in Polish. “Sorry, sorry. Guest coats on the coat rack,” he replied, stepping across the room. 

“She’s not exactly a guest,” a kind-looking woman interrupted, walking past him. “Don’t mind Artur. He’s prickly when hungry,” she smiled, pulling Robert into a tight hug. She murmured something in his ear. Despite her voice being much too quiet to hear, Inkeri had a sense of what she was saying from the deep blush on Robert’s cheeks. 

He glanced over his shoulder at Inkeri as his mother stepped back, the pride in his eyes enough to take her breath away. Inkeri automatically moved to his side, their hands finding each other as though magnetised. 

“Mama, this is Inkeri. Inkeri, my mother, Anna,” he introduced, momentarily feeling buoyed by the giant smiles on both of their faces. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m so grateful for the invitation.” 

“We didn’t invite you,” Artur corrected, moving further away from the group and into the dining room. 

“Now he speaks English,” Inkeri muttered under her breath. Robert’s hand tensed in hers and she realised how badly he wanted to please his father. She squeezed back, hoping to reassure him. If he didn’t want an argument, she wouldn’t let his father start one. 

“Anyone who makes my son smile like that is always welcome.” Anna shot Artur a glare, ushering them into the dining room. “Sit, please,” she smiled, gesturing to the chairs. 

“I can help you bring in the food,” Inkeri offered, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Robert’s head when he was seated. 

“That would be very nice,” Anna replied gratefully, pausing once they stepped into the kitchen. “How is he, really?” she asked softly. “He’s so quiet around his father. Artur just wants the best for him, but…”

“He knows,” Inkeri interrupted. Robert was very tight-lipped about his family, but Inkeri knew he was trying to let her in. “And he’s good. I think he’s happy.” 

“You must be very special if he’s willing to brave Artur’s complaints about a serious girlfriend.” Anna watched her carefully, trying to discern how much Robert meant to her. “And you must care for him to be here.”

“I would follow him anywhere,” Inkeri admitted, grinning. “I am sorry for barging in, when Robert invited me I assumed…” Anna waved her hand, silencing Inkeri’s apology.

“Robert mentioned bringing someone with him over the holidays. I had a feeling it was going to be someone special,” she smiled warmly. “I just didn’t share my thoughts with Artur.” Anna toyed with the hem of her apron, looking unsure of what else to say. 

Inkeri glanced into the other room, her smile fading a little as she saw Robert’s stern expression firmly back in place. “Should I take this in?” she asked, pointing to a large plate with a roast and potatoes on it. Anna nodded. Inkeri felt a strange obligation to get back and break up the tension between father and son. 

“Papa, Inkeri is an engineering student at the University of London. You’d be impressed with her ideas,” Robert smiled proudly, looking up at Inkeri as she sat the plate on the table. The relief on his face was evident as Inkeri took her seat next to him. 

“London’s a little far, isn’t it?” Anna commented, bringing in a bottle of wine. 

“It’s an easy flight when there’s a few weeks off. Her campus has a lot of really nice jogging paths, too.” 

“You don’t have time to travel,” Artur said flatly, switching to Polish to exclude Inkeri. She looked over at Robert, gently placing her hand on his as he dropped his eyes. Despite Artur’s attempt to block her understanding, her sparse Polish knowledge was enough to translate what he thought of Robert visiting her. She wanted to point out that he had only been to visit her once, but she wasn’t sure where her place was in this conversation. 

“Please speak English,” Robert said softly, still staring at his plate. 

“Why don’t you go to races?” Artur asked gruffly. Inkeri paused, unsure how best to answer his question. She wasn’t accustomed to trying to make someone like her. Typically, when someone was so determined to be disagreeable, she moved on. It didn’t make sense to spend time trying to change an obstinate person’s mind. However, as Robert’s hand slowly turned to link his fingers with hers, Inkeri bit her tongue. He was worth it. 

“I went to four over the summer. Unfortunately, school keeps me too busy during the semester. I also participate in an internship on the weekends, but I make sure to watch every qualifying and race.” Artur squinted at her. Before he could criticize her, Anna interrupted. 

“What sort of internship is it?” Robert’s mother asked, looking for a way to change the conversation. Unlike her husband, she didn’t think Inkeri would be disappearing. Seeing the way she bolstered her son around his inflexible father, she didn’t want her to.

“I’m interning with Williams Advanced Engineering. It’s a really great learning opportunity,” Inkeri gushed, happy to talk about her work. Robert’s smile slowly faded as his father interjected again. 

“Williams will try to bring you to the team,” Artur mumbled, again switching to Polish as he sliced the roast, taking his portion before passing it around. Inkeri tried not to shake her head. Williams wouldn’t be trying to lure Robert to the team, especially not just because of her. 

“Inkeri actually grew up in the Williams pits,” Robert commented, letting her hand go to reach for the plate. His leg moved so that his knee was resting against hers, still wanting some contact. Inkeri tried to hide her grin as Robert placed a slice of roast on her plate before serving himself. Despite the amount of stress he was obviously feeling, he was still very conscious of her. 

“Thank you.” Inkeri gently bumped his knee, glad to see the corner of his mouth twitch up. “My father was a mechanic for Williams back in the nineties,” she added, unsurprised to see no change in Artur’s expression. 

“So why isn’t she with him for the holiday?” Robert was torn between asking his father to speak English again, or let him keep making rude comments in a language Inkeri couldn’t understand. Inkeri’s eyes widened, surprised that Artur would ask why she wasn’t with her own family. It wasn’t an inherently rude question, but he was certainly phrasing it in a way that was intended to show Inkeri didn’t belong in his house. 

She was also a little surprised that Robert wasn’t attempting to stand up for her. His father was demeaning them both and no one was daring to say something. The way Kubica was continuing to reach for her was a small indicator of why he was so quiet. His father was the one person who intimidated him and he was leaning on Inkeri for some confidence. 

“What are your family doing for the holidays?” Anna asked, trying to rephrase the question in a more polite way. Robert cringed, missing the amusement in Inkeri’s eyes. He hadn’t told his parents much about her. Luckily, she was confident enough not to read into his silence. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, relaxing slightly when Inkeri dropped her hand to quickly squeeze his knee in a reassuring gesture. 

“You just want to keep me all to yourself,” she replied, keeping her voice soft enough to avoid being overheard. “My father passed away when I was young, and my mother left before my first birthday. Frank usually invites me along to Christmas, but I had a better offer this year,” Inkeri smiled, speaking up and looking to Robert’s family. 

“I’m not sure it’s better, but we are glad you’re here,” Anna said, her eyes warm. Artur snorted, staring Robert down. Robert kept his eyes focused on the table, physically curling in on himself. For the first time, he moved away from Inkeri. 

“The food is massively better,” she complimented, definitely glad to avoid the cup o’noodles she had been planning on. “And the weather. I love the snow.” Inkeri struggled not to glance at Kubica, wishing she knew how to help him. 

“There will be plenty next year,” Anna replied, meeting her son’s eyes when he finally looked up. Robert slowly smiled, relieved that at least one of his parents was accepting Inkeri. 

Dinner continued to be stilted, but Artur stopped making as many comments under his breath. They moved into the den and successfully chatted for half an hour before Inkeri accidentally said something wrong. 

“This coffee is delicious. Now I see where Robert gets his skills,” she complimented, smiling warmly at Anna. 

“I also taught him how to make karpatka.” Anna puffed up a little, proud that some of her teachings had stayed with her son. Inkeri turned slightly on the couch, moving so she could face him. 

“You’ve been in my apartment for two weeks and I’m just now hearing about this?” Inkeri jokingly complained, grinning when Robert rolled his eyes. 

“You’re sweet enough without pie, kochanie,” he chuckled, gently poking the tip of her nose. He blushed as his mother cooed at them, momentarily forgetting where he was. The Polish pet name was not lost on her. 

Kubica’s levity was quickly ended, though, when his father made a disapproving noise deep in his throat. That was clearly a sound Robert had learned to hate. 

“So you have time for some girl, but not for your family? Disrespectful boy.” Artur stood from his chair, towering over Robert as he still sat on the sofa. Robert refused to look at his father, instead pulling away from Inkeri and shrinking even further. “You would not be in F1 without me. She will distract you, and you will lose everything we have worked for,” he ranted in Polish. 

“Papa,” Robert said quietly, knowing better than to raise his voice. 

“She won’t stay when you stop winning. She’s only here for the cameras.” Inkeri stood up, matching his father’s hard stare. She couldn’t feign ignorance any longer. 

“You don’t know anything about me. I’m here because...” Inkeri paused, suddenly realising why Robert hadn’t told his parents much about her. The less his father knew, the less he could pick apart. The less he could tarnish. Artur continued glaring at her, hoping his narrowed eyes were hiding his surprise at her outburst. “You gave him the chance to kart, but Robert got himself to F1.” She held her breath for a few moments, wondering how badly she had overstepped. Upsetting Artur didn’t matter, but making Robert’s already rocky relationship with his father worse did. 

Inkeri exhaled as Robert stood up next to her, his fingers twining around hers. His shoulders squared and his head held high, he finally looked like the Kubica she knew best. “Inkeri isn’t just some girl. You’re my father and I respect you, but I shouldn’t have let you talk about her all evening. I deserve your respect in return.” Artur opened and closed his mouth, startled by Robert standing up to him. “It’s getting late,” he continued, releasing Inkeri to hug his mother. 

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean…” 

“You did nothing wrong,” Anna interrupted, pulling Inkeri into a hug right after Robert. “I’m glad Rob has you on his side.”

Inkeri smiled as his mother let her go, glad to have made a positive impression on one of his parents. Robert grabbed her coat off the ‘guest’ coat rack, holding it out for Inkeri. As he slid it up over her shoulders, he leaned down to press a kiss against the side of her neck. 

They made the drive back to the hotel in silence. Robert was clearly deep in thought, processing the evening. Inkeri, silencing her questions, glanced out the window, watching the snow-covered trees pass by. 

“I’ve never been so glad to see a hotel,” Robert murmured, holding the lobby door open for Inkeri. She nodded her agreement, leading the way up the stairs to their floor. He reached around her when they arrived at their room, unlocking the door and pushing it open. 

Inkeri walked in, dropping her coat on the chair by the door. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes as they undressed, leaving the lights off. Robert moved towards the bed, pulling Inkeri with him. 

“When were you going to tell me you spoke Polish?” he asked, tugging her against his chest as she settled in next to him. 

“I wanted to surprise you. Originally I was going to do something like fawn over you to your parents, but I decided to pick a fight with your father instead.” Inkeri pressed her forehead into the pillow, hiding her face. 

“You really didn’t speak it before?” Inkeri shook her head, keeping her face down. 

“I didn’t want to visit my Polish boyfriend’s Polish parents IN Poland without speaking the language at least a little.” Robert chuckled softly, trying to coax her out of hiding. 

“I love you very much,” he whispered in Polish, pressing kisses across her shoulder. It felt very natural speaking to her in his native language. 

“I love you more,” she answered back in Polish. Robert groaned. 

“That is very sexy.” 

“I want to taunt you and remind you I learnt it just for you, but I’m honestly so tired,” Inkeri admitted, finally rolling onto her side. She nestled against him, tucking her head under his chin. 

“We have tomorrow,” he shrugged, settling his arms around her. 

“How many tomorrows?” she mumbled, lips brushing against his chest. 

“As many as you want, kochanie.” 

“What if I’m greedy?” Inkeri’s words were barely comprehensible now as she drifted off to sleep. 

“Life’s short, and I want to spend all of them with you,” Robert murmured, brave enough to mention forever. Inkeri didn’t hear him, but it was still a big step.


	8. 3 January 2009 - Krakow, Poland

The small karting track was completely empty. The grey January skies made it feel all the more desolate, the occasional breeze shifting the clumps of grass and weeds that sprung up from cracks in the concrete. 

It was nothing like the other tracks Inkeri had been to in Europe as a kid. Most of those had been pristinely maintained, complete with small tire barriers, a grandstand, and scaled down garages. 

This place, though, was somehow exactly like Robert. It might look a little cold from the outside, but you could sense the joy within. It also served as a beacon of all of his hard work. The track layout wasn’t simple, and its lack of popularity meant that scouts wouldn’t just happen to see the racing. 

Inkeri grinned as she glanced over at Kubica. He was staring at the ground, a scowl on his face. She cleared her throat, mimicking Robert’s frown as he looked up. 

He rolled his eyes at her expression, but a small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. Robert nervously adjusted the toggle of his navy jacket again, zipping it up under his chin. Inkeri walked over, sensing the anxious energy rolling off of him. 

“Death-defying crashes don’t faze you, but a man with a camcorder is your kryptonite?” she joked, catching his hand as he started to fiddle with his teamwear again. 

“A movie reference I actually get,” he grinned wryly, taking a deep breath as the interviewer approached. “I never know how much to say or what to do with my hands,” he confessed, leaning down as Inkeri beckoned him closer. 

“You talk as much as you’re comfortable with. This is your story,” she emphasized, reaching up to straighten his cap. Inkeri brushed his unruly curls back behind his ears. Kubica closed his eyes for a beat, grateful that Inkeri knew how to help him center his thoughts. “You worked your ass off to get here, now suffer the consequences of your fame,” she winked. Robert opened his mouth to reply, snapping it shut with a grimace when Inkeri interrupted him. “I don’t want to be famous, I just want to drive,” she continued, doing her best impression of his deep voice and accent. 

“Wow, maybe you should just talk for me,” he suggested, grabbing her hand before she could poke him. 

“I do a pretty fantastic Kubica,” she agreed, shrugging. 

“I am great,” Robert smirked, pressing her palm flat against his chest with a flourish. 

“A fantastic  _ impression _ ,” she scoffed, correcting her earlier statement and giving him a pinch. He chuckled and swatted her hand away. “Now, go get this over with. I’m dying to see your primary school later today.” Kubica grinned at her impatience and tugged her in for a quick kiss, forgetting about the bright red lipstick she had put on earlier. “Oh, lovely. You definitely look like a serious racer now. Not debauched in the slightest,” she grumbled, wiping the red smudge away with her thumb. 

“Comes later, eh?” he said softly, ducking his head to not be overheard. Inkeri bit the inside of her lip, trying to stifle her giant smile. Kubica could be very bold sometimes, and she was head over heels in love.

“You’re ridiculous,” she whispered back, a light blush dusting her cheeks as she looked up at him. Robert gave her one more look, his eyes saying plenty, before turning back to the interviewer. 

Nearly two hours later, Inkeri’s toes were frozen. The temperature kept dropping and she wished she had forgone her vanity and worn her heavy boots instead of the flimsy loafers on her feet. 

“You’re welcome to go on to the school. I’m sure it’s much warmer inside,” the interviewer mentioned, looking skeptically at Inkeri’s thin coat. 

“I wouldn’t miss all of this for the world,” she replied, stifling a laugh as Robert prepared to walk across the lawn for the third time. Each pass had managed to look entirely forced and uncomfortable. Acting ‘naturally’ was apparently not possible for Kubica.

“Can I ask you something off the record?” Inkeri nodded, curious what else he wanted to know. Kubica had been very open with all of his answers, so she wasn’t sure what the interviewer could be missing. “Does he have any funnier stories? I’m worried that some of the anecdotes might be a little too dry.” 

“Uh,” Inkeri drew out. Robert’s ‘funny’ childhood memories were a bit darker than a British journalist was probably expecting, but they were very much in character for him. His sense of humour was very indicative of his Eastern European roots. “He’s got some Polish sayings. You could try asking for one of those,” she suggested, shrugging. “There’s a great one about walking,” she added, grinning to herself. 

“Thanks, I’ll make sure to bring it up before we walk into the school.”

A few minutes later, Inkeri had already forgotten her suggestion. As Robert grinned and stumbled through translating a common saying about cars and luck, she was still completely focused on the little school room around them. 

The room was small and musty, the scent of chalk still heavy in the air. The children had all filed out so the interviewer could talk to Robert more in the empty space. Devoid of schoolkids, the room seemed even smaller. Kubica looked giant as he folded himself into one of the little chairs behind a desk. 

Inkeri paced slowly around the room, her fingers trailing over the peeling wallpaper. It was sometimes hard to imagine Robert as a small child. Especially as a very chatty one who got into trouble with his friends, as he told the interviewer. 

“After that year, I moved to a larger school in Krakow. I was gone frequently for racing so there was always a pile of schoolwork waiting for me when I got back. I had to catch up everything I had missed and keep top marks so my parents would let me race.” Inkeri glanced back at him, grinning at the content expression on Robert’s face. It was good to see him proud of all the hard work he had put in to achieve his goals. 

After speaking to the class, the interviewer directed them all outside to the grassy field they used to play football. Robert got a little too competitive, nearly slide tackling one of the students. He pulled up in time to avoid it, but Inkeri still shook her head at his antics. He was definitely still a kid at heart. 

Robert signed the three footballs the school had, taking photos with the students before they were ushered back into the school. He picked up the ball and tried to juggle it, managing to kick it three times before it bounced away from him. Inkeri jogged after the ball on his third miss. 

“Oh my god, finally something you aren’t better at,” she joked, easily kicking the ball up and bouncing it. She used her knee to keep it up for a dozen bounces before doing an ‘around the world’. Robert was completely floored. 

“You can barely run in a straight line. How can you do that?” he asked, walking around her to watch as she kept the ball off the ground. 

“Well,” she paused, catching the ball and holding it out to him. “I can do those two tricks, but I am absolutely shit at actually playing football,” she admitted, grinning at the expression on his face. 

“What other things are you hiding?” he asked, pretending to study her carefully. “Hmm?” he pressed, squinting at her. Inkeri started to say something but Robert grabbed her, tickling her sides. 

“Cut it out!” Inkeri gasped, trying to stifle her very loud laughter. “There’s nothing else,” she giggled, her face red as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp. Her elbow collided with his stomach and Robert let go with a yelp. Inkeri clapped a hand over her mouth, holding in renewed laughter at his stricken expression. “Are you ok?” 

“I put myself in harm’s way,” he shrugged, rolling his shoulders back as he stood up. Inkeri caught the twinkle in his eye and knew he really was alright. 

“I have been called a danger before,” she replied, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but we need to get to the next track if we don’t want to be late,” the interviewer shouted.

“Weapons,” Robert nodded solemnly, taking hold of Inkeri’s hands. She chuckled at his very serious face.

Robert still wasn’t sure how, but Inkeri had managed to talk her way into the last hot lap at the BMW customer event later that afternoon. It seemed Inkeri’s powers of persuasion worked on just about everyone she met. 

Inkeri strapped her helmet on tight and climbed into the car, rocking in the seat as she waited for Kubica to get situated. She was nearly bouncing in the seat with excitement. Robert found himself very curious to see how she reacted on a hot lap. He assumed she’d been in fast cars before, but never with him at the wheel. 

“What?” she asked, finally noticing that he was staring at her. 

“You’re very excited,” he commented, one hand loosely around the steering wheel while the other rested on the shifter. 

“Yes, I am. I’ve been watching you fly out of this tent like a bat out of hell all day, and you’ve never taken me on a lap before. I want to zoom!” she added, her breath coming out in a loud whoosh as Kubica dropped the brake and took off. Kubica was still looking at her as he squealed the tires, leaving fresh rubber on the ground. 

Inkeri didn’t want to admit it, but she wished he would look back at the track despite really, really enjoying his arrogant little smirk. The take-off had been a power move, and it was achieving its intended effect. 

Robert winked at her before finally returning his focus to the track. He slid through the first corner with ease, kicking the tail out on the exit. This lap wasn’t about speed, it was about showing off. 

Inkeri grabbed at the sides of her seat, holding on as he drifted through the next corner. She was managing to stay quiet, but there was a massive smile on her face. 

By the fifth corner he had taken sideways, she had cracked and begun giggling. It was the strangest passenger reaction Robert had gotten. It was also the first time someone had cheered for him to go faster.

It was also the most distracting. He had glanced over, unable to stop himself from wanting to see how happy she looked, and clipped three cones in the slalom. It was the first time he had hit a cone all day. 

“Kochanie, you are very distracting,” he chided softly when they had returned to the starting line. Instead of returning the car, he had avoided the sponsor area, needing to do one more lap after making a mistake. 

“This is one of the best things I’ve ever gotten to do,” she said brightly, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Maybe I’m strange, but it’s really hot how you throw the car around,” she admitted, covering her face and giggling. 

Kubica felt very smug. Most passengers looked slightly terrified, knuckles white from holding on. He had always enjoyed that reaction, but this was even better. 

For the next lap, though, he forced himself to focus. It was hard to push Inkeri’s cheering out of his head, but he was determined to make this round all about speed and precision. 

When they returned to the sponsor tent this time, Inkeri was speechless. 


	9. 13 March 2009 - Hinwil, Switzerland

Inkeri looked up as Robert came into the room. He looked pensive, like he was already prematurely worried about her answer to the question he had obviously come in to ask. She was 35 pages into the written portion of her internship approval and wanted him to hurry it along. 

The dean had assigned Inkeri a particularly long analysis of her work with Williams Engineering. It was his way of compensating for having a student involved with a program that had never collaborated with the university before. He had even timed it so she would be able to use the university’s spring break to work exclusively on this extra assignment.

“What’s up?” she asked, chewing on the end of her pen. 

“I have to go to the factory tomorrow. The team wants to film a few promotional videos, and…” he trailed off. Robert looked down at his hands. Inkeri leaned out of her chair, trying to get him to look at her. “They want you to come with me.” 

“Me? The team wants  _ me _ to be there?” she asked, not understanding exactly why. Kubica nodded. Inkeri put her pen down, closing the book on her lap. “I feel like there’s more to the story.” 

“They want you in one of the videos,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Something about us reaching a different group of F1 fans.” Inkeri gaped at him. 

“I don’t want to be in one of your team promotions. I’m just a girlfriend. Why don’t they get Heidfeld and his wife to do it?” She hated the idea of being on camera. It was fun to tease Robert about his stiff posture, but she knew she would be even worse. A little, wicked smirk spread on Kubica’s face. 

“BMW thinks we’re more fun,” he added, knowing exactly how to get her on board. Inkeri’s eyebrows raised. “We’re ‘relatable’,” he continued, using air quotes. 

“Tomorrow could not be worse timing. I have that meeting Monday to argue for credit based on my analysis,” she said, looking apprehensive. The idea of being preferred over the Heidfelds was tempting, though. Inkeri considered her options for a moment, not missing the look in Kubica’s eye. This was important to him. “Ok.” She nodded her head, creating a game plan in her head to get the final edits done. She knew the material by heart, so she could write up her talking points on the flight home. 

“Really?” Kubica asked, the excitement clear in his expression. 

“Of course. How often do we get to do some silly team thing together?” she shrugged, grinning. 

The next day, they turned up to the factory on time. It was always a bit of a struggle to leave the apartment, the idea of  _ not  _ spending that extra few minutes tangled up in each other completely foreign. 

Inkeri automatically buttoned Robert’s shirt a bit higher, grinning at his disgruntled expression. He had spent several minutes in front of the mirror perfecting his look at home. 

“I’m trying to look suave,” he complained. Inkeri rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“How about polished instead of disheveled?” she suggested, giggling when he poked her in protest. Robert pulled her closer, mumbling little things to her in Polish between kisses.

Someone cleared their throat from a few feet away, startling them both. Inkeri spun around to face the director, her cheeks pink as she realised he had been watching them since they got out of the car. 

“This is the dynamic we want to show the fans. Men will think he’s got it all, and women will want to be the one he’s looking at,” he explained, scribbling a few notes on the paper in his hands. Inkeri frowned slightly, not entirely liking the premise. She shrugged it off, though, assuming the marketing team would know better about these sorts of things than her. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” he continued, turning to face Inkeri. She nodded, wondering what was coming next. “So Inkeri, do you own a car?” 

“I do, I actually have a BMW,” she replied eagerly, hoping all of the questions were this easy. 

“That’s great. Which one do you have?” Robert had moved off to the side, standing out of the director’s line of sight. His mouth was slightly open with silent laughter.

“The 850. I found it in a junkyard earlier this year. The motor has about 300.000km on it, but it shouldn’t be hard to get running,” she explained, still feeling pleased with her find. There was something about a V12 that just felt right.

“Oh. Um,” the director’s face fell. He looked like he was thinking hard on how to phrase his next question. “Well, if you could have any BMW, what would you have?” 

“The Z8,” she replied without pause. The director looked up from his script. He still didn’t exactly look happy.

“Sorry, I meant which one would you drive on a daily basis.” Inkeri narrowed her eyes, not seeing what was wrong with her answer. 

“The Z8,” she repeated slower, unsurprised when he sighed. “Of the current models, I guess I’d have the M3, but the clutch isn’t very good.” Robert clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter. 

“What’s wrong with the clutch?” he asked, a very strange mixture of annoyance and boredom on his face. Kubica couldn’t wait to hear her complain about the clutch to a guy with top factory contacts. 

“It’s too long. You have to push it to the floor to engage it and release all the way to the top to actually get the gear. The one they used in the Alpina was really nice. It had a lot less mush, but it got discontinued two years ago,” she answered honestly. “I’m an engineer,” she added, holding up her hands when the man kept staring at her in unhappy disbelief. 

“Huh, ok. Well,” he paused, briefly looking concerned. Robert, on the other hand, looked very pleased with her response. “I guess to be more specific, which one of the SUVs do you like?” Inkeri hesitated, looking to Kubica for help. She was definitely not an SUV person. He raised his shoulders, offering no assistance. Truthfully, he was enjoying watching this go exactly the opposite of how the director had been hoping.

“If I had to pick, I guess the X6 with the V8.” The director heaved a deep sigh. “Sorry, can you just tell me the right answer?” she finally said, noticing the still bothered expression on his face. 

“Here’s the way Inkeri buys a car,” Robert piped up finally. “Is it fast? Is it incredibly loud? Is it totally useless for any purpose other than driving? Fit those three, and she’s in,” he smiled, walking up to put his arm around her shoulders. Inkeri looked up at him, shaking her head. “The Kubica’s drive that,” he added, pointing to his M6 they had turned up in. Inkeri noticed he had called them by his surname, but she didn’t correct him. It had a nice ring to it. 

“So we just use your car,” the director sighed, holding up his hands in resignation. “I’ll put Nick and his wife in the X5. Makes more sense,” he muttered, handing them some papers. “There’s just a few lines, but feel free to adlib a little, just make sure you include these.” 

“Do we really need lines?” Inkeri asked under her breath, following Robert to his car. “Basically you’re going to do donuts, and I’m going to be amazed,” she said, skimming through the synopsis for the commercial. 

“Just a normal Friday for us,” he replied with a smile. 

“Veteran F1 driver, Nick Heidfeld loves the X5 for it’s quiet ride and ample space to accommodate his growing family,” a voiceover said, the camera panning over Nick driving the large red SUV on the country lane just outside Hinwil, his pregnant wife smiling over at him from the passenger seat. “Newcomer, Robert Kubica, prefers something else entirely.” Kubica’s blue M6 shot into frame, the tires screeching and billowing smoke as he drifted through a corner. The camera focused on Heidfeld’s face for a moment, his uncomfortable frown almost believable as he watched Robert drift around the entire roundabout in front of him. 

The next shot was inside the M6. Kubica had a big smile on his face, and Inkeri was laughing, her shoulder leaned against the door from the centrifugal force. Kubica went through the roundabout sideways once more, letting the tail slowly get back in line as they exited. 

“Pretty good, huh?” he asked, his voice hilariously robotic. It was almost like the camera turned him into a human-adjacent version of himself. 

“Eh,” Inkeri shrugged, grinning just a little despite her indifferent tone. Kubica frowned at her, shaking his head. He did a Scandinavian flick and set off at an even faster pace. Inkeri cheered next to him, grabbing on to the handhold. 

“Whatever your speed, we’ve got something for that.” 


	10. 26 June 2009 - London, England

“It’s such a lovely day outside,” Inkeri mused, pointedly staring out the window. The bright weather was rare, as was Kubica being in her apartment during the summer.   
“It is,” he said, not lifting his head off the back of the couch. He was comfortably slouched on the cushions, but he could sense Inkeri wanted him to get up on his one day of rest.   
“The sunshine is practically begging to be enjoyed,” she continued, casting a coy glance over her shoulder at him. Robert cracked one eye open, grinning when she looked away quickly.   
“But then the couch will get very jealous.” Inkeri rolled her eyes, walking over to settle herself on his lap.   
“Yes, but…” she began, toying with the long hair at the nape of his neck as he slowly lifted his head to look at her. Robert leaned into the touch as she gently scraped her fingernails against his scalp. Inkeri smiled as he turned to putty in her hands.  
“I thought all I wanted to do was sit here, but now all I want is to do whatever will keep that grin on your face,” he murmured, sliding his hands up her legs to rest on her hips. “What do you want to do outside, kochanie?” Inkeri’s smile widened.   
“Fly a kite!”  
“Fly a kite?” he echoed, wondering when flying a kite had ever sounded so good. “We don’t have one, though.”   
“Well…” Inkeri hopped up, sprinting into the kitchen. “I just happened to make one while you were napping,” she said, looking triumphant as she held up her prize.   
Robert bit down his laugh, adoring how proud Inkeri was of her kite. He reached for it as she came closer, pretending to inspect it closely. Despite its wrapping paper cover, the kite appeared to be well built.   
“Let’s fly a kite,” he grinned, leaning in a second too late to kiss her before she skipped away to the front door. He cleared his throat, cocking a brow at her when she looked back.  
“Sorry,” she giggled, walking back to him. Robert wrapped an arm tightly around her waist, holding her against his chest.   
“I’ll give up my lazy day, but I’m not giving these up,” he groused, trying to look stern.   
“No one’s asking you to, Kubi. You’ve just gotta be quicker,” Inkeri replied, slipping out of his grasp with a laugh.   
“Zabijesz mnie,” he muttered, catching her arm before she made it out the door. Inkeri’s laughter quickly died down, her breath catching as Kubica shoved her against the door, careful to catch her head. “You drive me crazy.” He pressed a kiss just beneath her left ear. “But I love it.” 

Outside, the air was completely still. There wasn’t even an occasional breeze to ruffle the leaves. Inkeri wiped the sweat from her brow, embarrassingly tired from sprinting up and down the park for the past hour.   
“Why have you betrayed me?!” Inkeri shouted at the sky, shaking her fist at the bright blue expanse.   
“Kochanie,” Robert chuckled, shaking his head at her antics.   
“What? I dragged you out here and now the weather decides to go to shit.” He picked the kite up off the ground, walking towards her.   
“I don’t think you can call this shit,” he commented, gesturing to the pleasant, sunshine-y day.   
“Fine, non-English weather! Where’s the wind? Where’s all the clouds?” she asked, tugging her sleeves down. Despite how warm it was, the fabric was all that protected her from the bright sun.   
“Let’s try it one more time.” Inkeri raised her shoulders in question.   
“Why bother? I don’t think it’s going to suddenly fly now,” she grumbled, starting to wind the string up. Robert gave it a gentle tug, pausing her.   
“Just try again, love,” he pressed, giving her an encouraging smile. Inkeri huffed and shook her head, but turned around, preparing to run again.   
“It’s not going…” she began, taking off as fast as she could manage.   
“Look!” Robert cheered, holding the kite as high as possible. His longer legs made it easy to keep up with Inkeri as she ran. She glanced behind her, nearly stumbling over her feet as she saw what he was doing. “It’s flying!” Inkeri kept running until she couldn’t catch her breath; she was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face.   
She flopped onto the grass, her arms and legs spread like a starfish. Kubica dropped down next to her, only slightly less out of breath.   
“Some peak athlete you are,” she huffed, pushing the sweaty hair off her forehead.   
“I’m a very lazy athlete,” he admitted, rolling onto his side to face her. “Have we enjoyed the sunshine enough?”   
“Just a few more minutes,” she mumbled, scooting over to rest her head on his arm. Kubica didn’t protest, pressing a kiss against her hair.   
“Today, kite flying. Tomorrow, karting? I heard there’s a TeamSport indoor track close by.”   
“Mmhm,” Inkeri hummed, her eyes closed. Robert grinned and nudged her.   
“C’mon you can’t sleep in the park,” he chided.   
“You said I can do anything,” she countered, still not opening her eyes. Kubica snorted.   
“Ok, you shouldn’t sleep in the park.”   
“Why?” Inkeri pouted, sticking her bottom lip out. “It’s warm and you’re comfy,” she explained, snuggling into his chest for emphasis. He dug his fingertips into her ribs, tickling her as she tried to scoot away. “Ticklers don’t get to go karting!” she squealed, barrel-rolling across the grass to escape. 

The next day, Kubica was up early, excited to go racing. Inkeri wasn’t quite as enthused. She liked to see him so happy, but she was nervous about driving around in the tiny karts. She preferred to fix them up and watch other people drive.   
The indoor track was much larger than she had pictured. The manager recognized Kubica immediately and let them skip the line after a quick autograph.   
“Celebrity perks,” he winked, grinning when Inkeri smacked him in the arm. He reached for a pair of helmets as they walked through the stands, picking up a small and a large.   
“Your big head isn’t going to fit in your helmet,” she snipped, wrinkling her nose at him.   
“Fits fine,” he reassured, tugging the helmet on. Inkeri laughed as he tilted his head side to side, pretending to check the fit. She pulled her own helmet on, struggling a little with the strap. “Come here,” he murmured, reaching out to help her. She leaned her head back, letting him easily loop the strap through the buckle.   
“Sorry, I’m a little nervous,” she admitted, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans.   
“I’ve seen you drive, kochanie. There’s nothing to be worried about,” he reassured, surprised to see her so nervous.  
“Cars don’t bother me. These things,” she gestured to the kart, “they’re so little and open.”  
“Nothing bad will happen,” he said, gently bumping his helmet against hers. Inkeri looked up at him, trusting that he would help her.   
“It will be fun,” she shrugged, hoping to convince herself. She followed Robert over to her kart, listening carefully as he explained how it worked. It was very basic, gas pedal, brake pedal, steering wheel.   
“These will only go about 80 km/hr.” Inkeri’s eyes bugged slightly. That might be slow to someone used to driving F1 cars, but to her, that was entirely too fast for the plastic seat with four wheels attached. “I’ll stay as slow as you want so you can follow. You’ll probably feel more confident if you can see the best line through a corner.” Inkeri nodded along, hoping he didn’t get bored at her speed.   
“Ok, I can do this,” she murmured to herself, settling into the seat. “Don’t be so worried. If those little kids can handle it, I think I can manage ok.” Inkeri fastened the seatbelt, double checking that it was tight enough. The kart rumbled beneath her and she took a few deep breaths, slowly relaxing with the semi-familiar engine sound. She knew how to drive, and this wouldn’t be any different.   
Robert settled into his own kart just ahead. He waved back at her, checking to see if she was ready. Inkeri gave him a thumbs-up, ready to take off.   
The first three laps were very slow, Robert making sure to learn the track. As he found the best lines, he began to pick up a little speed, keeping a very close eye on Inkeri.   
She kept pace with him easily, loosening up with each lap. She fell into a comfortable groove as they continued on. The lines were clearly visible to her now and she felt confident in the kart, trusting how much she could let the back tires slide.   
On lap 15, though, she made a big mistake. Robert went a little wide into the fifth corner, wanting to try a slightly different line. Now that Inkeri had memorised the previous corner lines, he wanted to experiment a little to see if there were even better ways through.  
Inkeri saw the gap and decided to go for it. She wanted to impress Robert with her driving ability, and a pass seemed like the best way to do it. Ignoring her better instincts, she absolutely went for it.   
Robert noticed her ill-fated trajectory and stayed wide through the turn, slamming on the brakes as Inkeri smacked into the tire wall at the corner exit. He checked to make sure no one else was behind them before pulling up next to her. Inkeri’s eyes looked a little watery but she gave him a thumbs up, gesturing for him to continue on. He pulled away slowly, glancing back to make sure she was going to follow.   
They pulled into the small pit line. Robert was out of his kart quickly, hopping over the divider between lanes to assist Inkeri with her harness. She was definitely not using her left hand.   
“Are you alright?” he asked, gently helping her to pull off the helmet.   
“Yea, I think I’ve hurt my arm though,” she admitted, rolling up her sleeve to peek at it. Just a few inches above her wrist, the skin was already starting to bruise and swell. “At least now I can brag and say I passed Robert Kubica one time.” Inkeri grinned, her face starting to fall as soon as she noticed Kubica’s expression. He was very far from impressed.   
“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, his voice louder than normal.   
“If you no longer go for a gap that exists...”   
“Don’t quote Senna at me,” he grumbled, surprising himself with how angry he felt. “What if I hadn’t seen you?”   
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, feeling increasingly stupid. “I would have felt really bad if I accidentally hurt you.” She looked so sad as she held onto her arm, her train of thought surprising him.   
“Wait, what?” Kubica shook his head. Inkeri was misunderstanding his worry. “Who cares if I get hurt? I don’t want to see anything happen to you. Especially doing something stupid I pressured you into,” he explained, reaching out to run his fingers through her hair, trying to tame some of the helmet hair.   
“You didn’t pressure me. You enjoy doing this, and I wanted to try it.”  
“Thank you,” he said quietly, pulling her in for a quick kiss, careful not to bump her arm. “Let’s get our helmets turned in and get you to the hospital.”   
“I don’t need a hospital,” she balked, trying to bend her wrist. “See, it’s… owwwie,” she winced, immediately stopping the movement. Robert stared at her, his eyebrows raised as he waited for her to cave. “Alright, fine. It’s a little sore. It wouldn’t hurt to have it looked at,” she admitted.


	11. 27 June 2009 - London, England

The doctor did a double take as he walked into the small exam room. He stared for a few moments before shaking his head and finally turning to address Inkeri.   
“Sorry, never had an F1 driver in here before,” he apologized, glancing at the paperwork in his hands. His distracted nature vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. “So, there was a little accident on track?” Inkeri nodded and held out her arm.   
“He put me into a tire wall when I tried to pass him. Vicious bastard.” Kubica made a startled noise, his mouth opening and closing twice. Inkeri grinned at him. The doctor gave Kubica a very sympathetic look.  
“Best to just accept it,” the doctor commented, turning back to carefully prod Inkeri’s now-very swollen arm. “Trust me, been married 40 years.” He made a few notes on his chart before looking up again. “Right, x-rays. Follow me.” Inkeri made a face at Robert as she followed the doctor out, both surprised at his lack of small talk. Kubica laughed as the doctor caught Inkeri sticking her tongue out.   
An hour later, she was back in the room and pretending to see exactly what the doctor was pointing at on the film.   
“Good news, it’s just a fracture of the radius. I’ll put a cast on it and see you back in six weeks.” Inkeri groaned and leaned back in the chair. The doctor handed her a lollipop before walking out of the room, shouting at a nurse to get the casting process started.   
“He’s a little strange,” Kubica commented, walking over to lean against the wall besides Inkeri’s chair.   
“You’re just jealous,” she said, grinning around the stick of the sucker in her mouth.   
“Ok, I’m going to get this plaster set up and give you a shot for the pain. After that, you’re free to go home,” the nurse explained, launching into the practiced speech as she walked in. She wiped Inkeri’s upper arm with an alcohol swab, beginning the process. “Probably want to keep an eye on her today and tomorrow,” the nurse added, tilting her head so she was only speaking to Robert. Inkeri scrunched up her face, looking away from the needle.   
“I’ll definitely do that,” he nodded, his hand automatically opening as Inkeri reached for him.   
An hour later, Robert finally had Inkeri home and in bed. The pain meds had definitely started to kick in, making her extremely tired and incredibly stubborn against going to sleep.   
“Would you stop trying to get out of bed?” he huffed, blocking her path out of the room.   
“You’re not in bed, so why do I have to be?” she asked, swaying as she stood.   
“Because you need to rest. If I get in bed, will you stop trying to escape?” he replied, leading Inkeri back to the bed.   
“I can’t make any promises.”   
“No, no, not like that…” He tried to catch her but was too late. Inkeri flopped gracelessly onto the bed. She rolled onto her back, her cast thudding against the wall as she threw her arm out. Robert hung his head, taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose.   
“Why do I smell like gasoline? It’s unpleasant but still sort of comforting,” she rambled, trying fruitlessly to pull off her t-shirt. Robert watched her wiggling around for a moment before she went totally still, her shirt partially off one arm and pulled up over her head. “Bugger,” she muttered.   
“Are you stuck?”   
“You can’t see it, but I’m nodding.” Robert chuckled, kneeling on the bed to reach her.   
“Sit up and I’ll help you,” he instructed, carefully untangling her. “Hold on, I’ll grab you a clean shirt.”   
“Can I wear one of yours?” she asked quietly, not looking at him. “They smell like you and it’s very comforting in a pleasant way.”   
“Just this once,” he grinned, returning with a soft blue tee from his suitcase. Inkeri held her arms up and he tugged the shirt over her head. She laid back in a more controlled manner, some of her earlier energy fading.   
Robert pulled off her shoes before kicking off his own, crawling into bed with her. Inkeri curled around him, the cast making her left arm unusually heavy where it rested across his stomach. He adjusted a little, finding the most comfortable spot for her new accessory.   
“Is that going to be you?”   
“What?” he asked, craning his neck to look down at the top of her head. Her question was entirely out of the blue, and he had been hoping he was finally falling asleep.   
“Giving out relationship advice when we’ve been married for forty years,” Inkeri explained, as though it was a very normal question and not at all random. “Fifty years,” she corrected, her eyes finally falling shut.   
“Fifty?” he snorted, shaking his head.   
“Yea, we’re better than that doctor.” Kubica rested his chin against the top of her head, still chuckling under his breath.   
“I might need a different job if you expect me to have a very long lifespan,” he joked, flinching when Inkeri’s head popped up.   
“Kubi, I expect to have you until seventy-five. It’s not negotiable.” Her head dropped back onto his chest just as quickly and she looped one of her legs around his. He tried to hold it in, but he couldn’t prevent the laughter that bubbled up from seeing her indignant face.   
“We aren’t married so you’ll probably get an extra year or two.” The yet not leaving his tongue.  
“Paperwork,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible as she finally drifted off to sleep.   
“I love you, even though you are crazy,” he murmured, wrapping his arms a little tighter around her. 

The first two weeks with her cast passed by without many incidents. Inkeri had gotten a pencil stuck in it for two days while Robert was at the German Grand Prix, but she had been very good about keeping it dry. Kubica had spent almost an hour making sure she could successfully waterproof it on her own.   
“Are you still coming to Budapest?” Robert asked, setting a mug of coffee in front of Inkeri. She looked nervous. That wasn’t normal.   
“Do you want me there?”   
“Of course,” he replied, feeling more confused.   
“Then I’ll be there,” she said with a nod, keeping her eyes on the drink in her hand. Inkeri could feel Robert scrutinizing her.   
“What’s wrong?” He had debated about trying to figure it out on his own, but asking was just much simpler.   
“It’s nothing. It’s stupid, honestly.”   
“Inkeri,” he pressed, not caring if it was stupid. It bothered her, and that was enough to make it important.   
“I’m very embarrassed that it bugs me, but my hair has faded in a really strange way. There’s this one still bright patch and…” she paused, holding up her cast.   
“I’ll fix it,” he shrugged, surprised she hadn’t just asked.   
“Really?”   
“Yes, really. I’ve watched you do it at least a dozen times,” he said, already up and moving towards the bathroom. Inkeri followed after him slowly, taking her chair with her. “It’s this one, right?” Kubica asked, holding out a bottle of blue hair dye.   
“That’s the one,” Inkeri confirmed, pulling out the brush and colour bowl. She poured roughly the same amount of dye she always used into the bowl and handed it to him.   
She sat down in the chair, grinning as she met Kubica’s eyes in the mirror. He looked about as nervous as she felt.   
“Wait, gloves,” she added, leaning forward to rummage in the cabinet. She pulled out a pair of rubber gloves, handing them back over her head.   
“Ok, you might have to talk me through this,” he admitted, awkwardly holding the brush in one gloved hand.   
Inkeri did her best to walk him through the process, wanting to be as succinct as possible. She also kept reminding herself not to giggle at the deep concentration line between his eyebrows as he attempted to do his task perfectly.   
“Now we just wait 30 minutes,” she explained, glancing in the mirror to be sure there weren’t any obvious missed spots.   
“If it looks bad, you can blame it on only having one good arm,” he joked, washing out the bowl.   
“And if it looks great, I can brag about my one handed skills?”   
“No way,” he disagreed, shaking his head. “If it looks great, I get all the credit for that.” Inkeri raised a brow at him.   
“You’re really going to tell all your macho track buddies that you dyed my hair? Oh, I can see the headlines now, ‘Kubica best boyfriend of all time!’,” she grinned, setting a timer.   
“That ticking sound feels like a challenge. What can I accomplish in just 30 minutes?” he questioned, ignoring her teasing. Inkeri turned around to say something else, but he grabbed her around the waist, tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her out.

David sidled up to Inkeri as she leaned against the pit wall, watching the cars fly by on their first qualifying laps. He frowned when he noticed the cast on her arm, assuming that was the reason she had been absent in Germany.   
“Do I want to know?” he asked, pointing at the cast.   
“My first proper karting incident,” she said proudly, waving her arm.   
“And the ear?” Inkeri’s hand automatically covered her left ear. The top of it was stained blue, the victim of extra dye she had failed to wipe off.   
“Kubica thought hair dye wouldn’t stain skin,” she shrugged, grinning as she thought back to Kubica’s horrified face as she explained that despite being hair dye, it was still permanent dye and would stain anything it touched. Even the end of his pointer finger that had fallen prey to a hole in the glove.   
“I’m not even going to ask why…” David trailed off, turning his focus back to the track. Nick Heidfeld’s BMW was parked at the side, a trail of smoke wafting from the back.   
Inkeri heaved a sigh as Kubica’s blue and white car joined his teammate’s a few laps later. He hadn’t made it out of Q3. It was just another setback in an already unfortunate season.   
“He’s going to be a party tonight,” she said sarcastically, waving to David as she headed back to the BMW pits. Being in Robert’s garage was her favourite part about summer break.   
Robert’s face was already set in a scowl as he pulled his helmet off. He briefly touched Inkeri’s shoulder as he walked by, obviously absorbed in thoughts about the car’s performance. She watched him walk into the briefing room, heading back to the motorhome as the door closed behind the group of engineers and drivers.   
It was a couple of hours before he reappeared, a grim expression still firmly in place. Inkeri knew these moods well after his two DNFs and lack of point-scoring positions this year. They had even perfected a routine for them.   
Inkeri continued working on homework and other research as Robert disappeared into the back. She waited until he wandered back out, nearly an hour later, hair still wet from the shower, before putting her papers down. He would buzz around the kitchen for a few minutes, making coffee before retreating to the couch with two mugs.   
“Hello, grumpy,” she said softly, sitting down next to him. She took the offered cup, leaning against him as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.   
“Hello,” he muttered, kissing the top of her head. And, that would be it, the bulk of their chatter on a disappointing Saturday.


	12. 29 October 2009 – Abu Dhabi Grand Prix

Inkeri sat in the hallway, her back pressed against the door to Robert’s room. He hadn’t come back from Friday practice just yet, but she definitely didn’t want to be alone. The weekend started off poorly for her, and things had only gotten worse.  
“Hey, I didn’t know you were waiting,” Robert said, walking down the hall towards her. Inkeri didn’t look up. “Inks, are you alright?” he asked, his voice concerned as he squatted down next to her. She slowly turned her head to look at him, her eyes still red from her earlier tears. “What’s wrong, kochanie,” he murmured, giving her space as she stood up.  
“I have to tell you something.” His heart nearly stopped as he opened the door for her. A million possibilities raced through his mind, each worse than the next. “I ended my mentorship today,” she said, swallowing down the lump forming in her throat.  
“What?” He must have misheard her.  
“I don’t know that it was the right fit for me,” she began, unsure how to vent her frustrations without seeming childish. “The team has a new investor, anyway, and he’s uncomfortable with me working closely with the Williams F1 team. I can move to the Porsche project, but my involvement in F1 is done for now,” she explained, biting the inside of her lip.  
“Why would he be uncomfortable? Frank was just talking about Williams’ progress with the KERs system,” Kubica pressed, not understanding how her position in the team could change so rapidly.  
“Conflict of interest.” The words were simple, but Robert understood the implication behind them instantly. The new investor was uncomfortable with Inkeri’s relationship with him, not her work performance.  
“They didn’t even give you a choice?” He wasn’t sure what he hated more: losing Inkeri or being the reason her career was already over.  
“Of course I had a choice,” she snapped, scrubbing a hand over her face. Robert watched as she took a few deep breaths.  
“I know how important this job is, though. You’ve been working towards this for a really long time,” he said softly, his eyes holding steady on hers. “I don’t want to be the reason…”  
“You aren’t,” she interrupted, her words muffled as she walked away. “At least, not entirely. I’ve been really unhappy with the internship for a while.”   
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, trying to read her expression. Inkeri flopped onto the bed, keeping her eyes down as Robert sat next to her.   
“I didn’t really know how.” Kubica reached for her hand, needing a better explanation. “You’ve had a lot going on with contract stuff and regular season things.”  
“You can talk to me about anything. I’m sorry if I put myself first too much lately,” he replied. Inkeri had been a bit quiet, but he assumed it had been a result of how busy she was with finals coming up. He didn’t like the idea that had just missed what was actually wrong.  
“No, you haven’t. It was just an excuse for me to not talk about it,” she confessed, still looking at their entwined hands. “I’m doing what I think is the best for me, but I still feel like I’m letting people down.”  
“Did something happen?” Inkeri shook her head.   
“I’m seeing that there won’t be much progression after my internship. I thought people were writing my ideas off because I’m an intern, but that’s not really the case.” She paused, finally looking at him. “I don’t like working at a job where no one listens to me. I didn’t want to say it out loud because it does sound silly. I know I’m going to have to work my way up anywhere. I know I’m going to have to push a little harder to get respect in a boy’s club.”   
“I probably understand that more than you think,” he admitted, squeezing her hand. “When I started karting, no one looked at me until I started winning. Then, suddenly, everyone wanted to talk to me. Maybe they don’t see you now, but they will.”   
“Or, someone else will. I can get experience with this KERs stuff while I’m in school, and then I can take my knowledge to a different sport. Maybe I will try to come back to F1 later, but maybe I’ll just be happier with a different car sport,” she shrugged, leaning into him. Robert adjusted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she sighed. “It just sucks realising I don’t want this thing I’ve spent my whole life talking about.”  
“You know I’m going to support whatever choice you make, right?” he asked, craning his neck to look at her. “You don’t have to worry about that.”   
“I wasn’t,” she began, pausing when he fixed her with a stern look. “Fine, I was a little nervous to tell you because I don’t want things between us to change.”   
“Why would things change?”  
“Well…” Inkeri floundered, her cheeks red. Robert tilted his head slightly, pressing her to go on. “If I’m in a different series, I might not make it to as many races. We wouldn’t both be travelling on the same schedule.” Robert struggled not to grin. The idea that Inkeri was thinking about this made him very happy.   
“That’s very valid,” he agreed, nodding solemnly. “I guess we will just have to move in together. That way we get as much time as possible.” Robert shrugged, trying to pretend he hadn’t been dying to ask her to move in for months now.  
“Move in together?” Inkeri echoed, pleasantly stunned that he had brought it up.   
“It’s the most logical idea.” Inkeri squinted at him for just a minute before he cracked, a giant smile spreading across his face. “Fine, I just really want to make you coffee every morning I can.”   
“Maybe this isn’t the worst weekend of the year,” she mused, a happy grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Are you going to teach me French now that you’re headed to Renault?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows at him. Robert wasn’t entirely fluent, but his French had been steadily improving since signing with the French team.  
“Maybe when your Polish is better,” he jibbed, trying to grab her hands before she could poke him.   
“Listen, you cheeky pierogi,” she grumbled, unsuccessfully trying to push him over. After a few minutes of struggling, he dropped back onto the bed, pulling her with him. Inkeri stopped trying to tug her hands free, instead nestling into him.  
They laid in silence, each thinking about the choice they had just made. Two years ago Robert couldn’t have imagined being here, completely and hopelessly attached to someone. She had found a way to break down his guards, but he trusted that she wouldn’t break anything else.  
“Are you moving to England?” Inkeri asked softly, wondering if he had fallen asleep when he took a few moments to answer.  
“Mmhm,” he hummed. “I have to be in Grove some of the time, but I don’t think London would be a stretch,” he replied, his croaky voice evidence he was nearly asleep when she interrupted him.  
“Or we could move to Grove,” she offered, surprising him into full alertness. “I might have left something else out,” she cringed, feeling him tense up.  
“Now I want to change something. No more secrets,” he grumbled.  
“I’m sorry, I was going to tell you after the race, but…” she started, pulling away from him and walking to her bag. Inkeri pulled a folded piece of paper out of the pocket, holding it out to him. “I didn’t want to freak you out before the end of the season.”  
“You’ve been accepted to Oxford?” he asked, eyes still poring over the document in his hands. “That’s one of the top schools in the world.” Robert finally looked up at her, his eyes giant.  
“Like I said, I might as well transfer somewhere closer,” she grinned sheepishly.  
“You should have led with the Oxford part of the story,” Robert said, grabbing her into his arms. He lifted her feet off the ground, spinning them around. “Oxford! My girlfriend is a genius!”  
“I just got a lucky break with the KERs research I was doing. Frank let me turn it into an admissions essay.” Inkeri ducked her head as he sat her down, still uncomfortable with his praise.  
“You earned a spot at the top university in the world because you deserve it,” he corrected, digging the obligatory tiny bottle of champagne out of the minibar. She started to protest, but he interrupted her. “You deserve it. Congratulations, kochanie,” he murmured, the teasing disappearing from his tone.  
“Thank you,” she replied softly, taking the champagne from him. “We’re toasting to my transfer and our flat. Then, you’re going to bed because you have practice early tomorrow.”  
He smiled and accepted the bottle back, taking a generous sip before tugging her into a kiss, the taste of champagne shared on their tongues. 

“You know, there is one big advantage to my internship being over,” Inkeri began, watching as Robert completed his final stretches for the morning. He was in a surprisingly good mood considering he hadn’t been at all pleased with qualifying the previous day.   
“You get to hand me my gloves?” he asked, grinning when she threw them at him. “You get to wear the right team shirt?”   
“Yes, caveman, I get to be branded with your merchandise,” Inkeri replied, rolling her eyes. “I was going to say, I get to be in the BMW pit all weekend but now, that doesn’t seem like as much of a perk. Where’s Heidfeld? Maybe I can borrow his jacket instead. Probably fits better,” Inkeri continued, shaking out the sleeves of Robert’s borrowed coat. The hem of the jacket nearly came down to her knees. While outwardly she groused, inwardly, she enjoyed feeling like he was close. Especially since he was going to be headed out on track soon.   
“Ok, ok,” he conceded, holding his hands up in defeat. “I’m glad you’re here, kochanie,” he murmured, grabbing the oversize jacket to pull her in for a quick kiss.   
“Is it safe?” Nick interrupted, walking in with his eyes covered. Kubica grinned at Inkeri, quickly schooling his face back into its usual expression.   
“We already promised it won’t happen again,” he said, his eyes bright as Inkeri’s cheeks went red, the incident replaying in her mind as well. Nick had walked in on a very compromising situation after free practice in Belgium.  
“I appreciate that. I don’t ever need to see my teammate’s bare ass,” Heidfeld grimaced, shaking his head. Inkeri finally cracked, dissolving into giggles as the two men passed each other, unable to look the other in the eyes.   
“Be careful, boys,” she urged, sobering up a bit as they collected their helmets.   
“Always,” Kubica assured, giving her a wink before following his teammate out into the garage.   
Despite finishing the race in tenth, a few places back from where he started, Kubica felt proud of his result. The car hadn’t felt good all weekend, but he still finished in the points.   
“Good luck next year,” Heidfeld nodded, shaking the Pole’s hand after the race. He had completed the race in fifth, but it was still hard to keep a smile on his face. With BMW withdrawing from the sport, he wouldn’t be participating in F1 the following year.   
“Same to you,” Robert replied, peeling his gloves off. “Next year will be a big change for everyone,” he commented, subconsciously looking around until his eyes landed on Inkeri. She smiled when she noticed his glance, continuing her conversation with Nick’s fiance, Patricia.   
“You’re next,” Nick chuckled, watching Patricia show off her engagement ring. She also held a hand to her stomach, their third child already on the way.   
“Let us move in together first. Then, maybe, marriage in a few years,” Kubica shrugged, surprised at how unafraid he was of the idea.   
“A few years,” Nick scoffed, shaking his head. “I give you a year.”


	13. 29 November 2009 - London, England

Kubica jumped out of bed, startled away by a loud banging at his front door. He tugged on a shirt and marched to the door, grabbing a discarded gear lever on the way. It was by no means a weapon, but it at least might deter someone. Aside from that, it gave him a smidge of courage. 

He yanked the door open, stumbling back as a red-faced Inkeri stormed in. She pushed past him, not bothering to say anything. 

“So let me paint a picture for you,” she started, angrily pacing the floor in front of his couch. “Is that the lever from your rally car?” Inkeri paused, looking at the object in his hand. 

“Inkeri, it’s two o’clock in the morning,” he interrupted, rubbing his eyes with an exasperated sigh. It was unlike her to barge in, and he couldn’t say he liked it. Kubica sat the lever on the end table by the door. 

“Oh? Am I interrupting your beauty rest?” she asked, clearly not expecting an answer. “My clock is in a box so you’ll have to forgive the time.” Kubica didn’t try to interrupt again. Instead, he walked over to the couch, flopping down onto the cushions. “I get home from a really long day. Class was miserable, and then, I cut my hand on some bodywork at the factory. Seven stitches,” she added, holding up her hand to show him the bandage on the heel of her left hand. “All I want is to go home and take a nap. Maybe even a hot bath followed by some more apartment hunting online with my currently long distance boyfriend. Following me?” Kubica nodded, starting to look less and less amused as her story went on. “Instead, I get home and the door to my apartment is open. Half of my shit is gone while the other half is in boxes!” 

“I sent you a text. I hired movers because I know you’re busy right now,” Robert interjected, taking advantage of Inkeri’s pause. 

“We’ll come back to why you hired movers to empty out  _ my _ apartment. You sent a text? Today?” 

“Yes,” he grumbled, standing up to walk back to his bedroom. Inkeri followed after him. “Look, I sent…” Kubica trailed off. Next to the text about the movers was a bright red exclamation point. The message had been undelivered. “Eh, sorry. That probably wasn’t the nicest afternoon,” he admitted, sitting the phone back down. Robert pulled the covers back, crawling into bed once more. 

“What are you doing?” Inkeri asked, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Going to bed?” Kubica replied, his brows knit together in confusion. It should have been obvious. 

“We’re not done,” she replied, crossing her arms. Robert sighed and leaned his head back. 

“I have a team thing early in the morning. I’ve apologised for not double checking that my text went through. It’s finished,” he shrugged, laying flat on his back. 

“You hired movers to haul my stuff off!” she shouted, yanking the blankets off him. 

“Hey!” Kubica grabbed for the blankets. “Are you really upset that I had someone do the difficult part for you? You told me you hated packing.” Inkeri’s mouth dropped open. 

“We haven’t even picked a fucking apartment!” Kubica nearly rolled his eyes. 

“My real estate broker called about a place a few days ago. It’s in a good location for both of us and has most of the things on our list. He sent the paperwork over, and I put down the deposit. It’s all settled,” he explained, flopping back onto his pillow again. “I really need to get some sleep before this event tomorrow, but after, I’ll show you all of the photos and stuff I have on it.” 

“You just picked the apartment all by yourself?” Inkeri asked, her voice eerily calm now. Robert nodded his head. Inkeri wasn’t reacting at all like he had envisioned. “You really don’t see why I would be upset about any of this?” 

“Inkeri, I don’t know why you’re angry, but I can tell you really are. I have to be up in four hours so maybe you should take that time to cool down.” With that, Kubica turned off the light and rolled onto his side, facing away from her. 

“I already tried that hence why I’m here so late. I spent five hours trying to ‘cool down’, and it didn’t take,” she retorted, flipping the light back on. “We aren’t done talking about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I took care of everything for you.” Robert turned the lights off once more, determined to get to sleep. Inkeri, however, was not at all satisfied. She grabbed a pillow, smacking him solidly with it. 

“Do you think you’ve just done something nice?” she asked, her voice barely below a shout. “You think just swooping in and taking control is the polite move?” 

“Inkeri,” he growled, yanking the pillow out of her hands. “I am done talking about this. Get out or calm down.” 

“Get out?” she asked, the sudden calm in her voice worrying Kubica. “And go where, exactly?” 

“Get a hotel. You’re an adult, you can figure this out,” he snapped. 

“Can I?” she questioned, pretending to ponder his suggestion. “I don’t know. I’m not capable of making my own decisions so I’m not sure I can do this. You should probably find a hotel for me. Do you trust me to drive myself there?” Robert groaned loudly. Sleep was going to be very far off. 

“You’re being very childish. I did something nice for you, and this is the thanks I get?” Kubica rolled out of bed, storming down the hall into the kitchen. He hated fighting. 

Inkeri knew he didn’t like being confronted. Robert was perfectly happy to stand up for himself, but he didn’t like shouting matches. She could sense that he felt caged, but she continued to poke at him anyway. She was too angry to just ‘walk it off’. 

“You took my autonomy! You obviously think I’m a child who needs to be taken care of, so why don’t I behave like one?” she continued, following him down the hall. 

“That is not how I think of you,” he argued, slamming the cup he had been holding onto the counter. The glass shattered, covering the ground in glittering shards. “Why are you so angry that I went out of my way to help you?” He ignored the mess for a moment, turning back to look at her. 

“You went out of your way to take control. It wasn’t help, it was…” 

“Stop shouting at me! I’m trying to understand,” he interrupted, raising his voice. He had never done that before. Inkeri finally took a breath, relaxing her clenched fists. 

“I spent most of my childhood with zero control over what went on in my life. After my dad died, it got even worse. I had to move from place to place because no one wanted me to stay. I don’t want someone making my choices again,” she explained, struggling to keep her cool. 

“I’m not forcing you to move in with me. If you don’t want to, now is a good time to say it. I think I can still get out of the contract,” he grumbled, stooping to pick up the broken glass. 

“I want to move in. I just want some say in where I’m going to be living,” Inkeri replied, coming around the counter to help him. “So, get out of the contract anyway and let’s go apartment hunting.” Robert groaned. 

“Why? This is all finished. There’s no more headache.”

“There’s a lot of headache because I’m still really unhappy. I know you think it was a sweet gesture, but it really wasn’t. I hate that you think it’s ok to send strangers into my personal space to pack up all my stuff,” Inkeri explained, wincing as a sliver of glass stuck in the tip of her finger. Kubica caught her hand, gently pulling the little piece out of her skin. 

“I just want to take care of you,” he said quietly. 

“I just want to be partners,” she replied simply, shrugging. Robert retreated to the bathroom, getting a plaster from the first aid kit. He was gone longer than necessary, but returned with a much less frustrated look on his face. 

“I still don’t think I did something terrible with the apartment. The movers were too much without talking to you about it, but I think I can understand why you were so upset. I’ll call the realtor in the morning and see how to get out of the apartment,” he said, carefully applying the plaster to her fingertip. 

“Thank you.” 

“This does mean you have to take time off to actually apartment shop. I know our timelines are different, but I need to be settled in before Christmas.” Inkeri nodded. 

“That bit I will apologise about,” she admitted. “I’ll take this weekend off, and we will get it completely sorted out. You go do the team stuff tomorrow, and I’ll be here when you get back,” she promised, throwing the last of the broken cup away. She put the dustbin away and turned to face Kubica. “I feel like I should probably go.” 

“No. You’re staying and we’re both getting at least a little sleep.” Inkeri raised a brow at him as he dropped to his knees, holding his hands up. “Only if it pleases mistress.” Inkeri scoffed, starting to roll her eyes. She paused, though, tilting her head as she looked at him. 

“Actually, I kind of like it when you beg.” 

“You wanted to be in control,” he replied, his expression much less innocent now. “Maybe it’s your turn with the…” 

“No, no, no. You said sleep, and I will definitely not be able to sleep if you put that image in my head.” Inkeri was definitely a little flushed now. 

“Life’s short, and I don’t want to waste it feeling rested,” he grinned.


	14. 13 March 2010 - Bahrain Grand Prix

Inkeri grinned up at Robert as they walked through the paddock. He wouldn’t admit it, and she wouldn’t point it out, but he looked very excited to be back around the cars after the winter break. It wasn’t obvious to anyone who didn’t really know him, but there was a new light in his eyes. And, a very subtle grin on his lips that may as well have been a giant, toothy smile to Inkeri. 

“Frank warned me, but I didn’t believe him,” David groused, his smile betraying the sour tone. 

“Warned you about making that face?” Inkeri jibbed, giggling at the annoyed look he gave her. He let out a loud sigh.

“No, obnoxious child. He warned me that you two were still nauseatingly loved up.” 

“Old people are so grumpy,” Robert shrugged, sidestepping David’s attempt to smack his shoulder, his mouth dropped open in surprise. 

“This cheekiness is all your influence,” he accused, pointing a finger at Inkeri. She merely smiled, not at all bothered by it. Kubica tugged her closer by the hand he was still holding, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“I have to get ready for practice. Will you be alright to find your way to the garage later?” 

“Of course,” she nodded, squeezing his hand before he let go. “Be careful,” she murmured, not missing the quick smile he tried to hide from everyone else. Robert reached up, unfastening his necklace.

“Love you,” he said quietly, pressing the chain he always wore into her palm. It had become their ritual every time he went out in the car. Inkeri held it tightly, not caring how ‘loved up’ she looked as she watched him walk away. 

From behind her, David made a retching noise. Inkeri turned to face him, rolling her eyes. “I thought you retired.” 

“I’m the media,” he announced, smugly holding up his press badge. “Do you have any funny anecdotes about your Polish paramour?” 

“You should ask him about his rally tests,” she suggested, ignoring David’s nickname. Before he could ask any more questions, the whine of an engine started up. Inkeri gave him a wave over her head as she marched off towards the fence, wanting to see who was on track. 

The practice session went by quickly, Adrian Sutil ending it early for everyone. His car was the victim of an under-torqued airgun, one of its front wheels leaving the car. Alonso set the fastest time of the session, his Ferrari unsurprisingly quick. 

Inkeri stayed out at the wall, knowing Robert would be totally focused on helping the team make little changes before qualifying. His years developing his own kart came in handy with small tweaks and adjustments.

Within an hour, the cars were back on track. She eagerly watched for Kubica’s black and yellow Renault. After just a few laps, he had set a quick enough time to be safe for the next session. 

Nearly all of the Cosworth cars were eliminated in Q1, only the Williams-Cosworths able to advance. Inkeri was pleased for Frank’s team to move forward, but she still kept her eyes focused on the same car. 

Kubica pushed hard, getting every last tenth out of the car. He managed to get into Q3, but his new teammate, Petrov, was eliminated in Q2. The second Renault only managed 17th. This wasn’t positive for the team, but it certainly made Kubica stand out more. 

Despite his best efforts, he was only able to qualify 9th. Inkeri knew this was a good result for him in a new car, but he still wouldn’t be entirely thrilled. 

She caught up with him after the final session, waiting until he left the team briefing. He started to smile at her, but his face fell as David rushed towards them, microphone in hand. 

“Oh no,” he grumbled, the tension relaxing in his shoulders as Inkeri caught up to him. “Who gave you a microphone?” Robert swiped a towel over his face, still sweating from the incredible heat. Out of habit, Inkeri reached up to straighten his cap, dropping her hand when David practically cooed. 

“The BBC,” he glowed, proudly pointing to the logo on his microphone. “Can I get a few words after qualifying?” Robert nodded and launched into his practiced speech. He praised the team and mechanics, predicting a decent weekend for them with hopes of finishing in the points. “Thank you for that, but what I really wanted to ask about were your rally tests in the off-season. I was told there’s a story there.” 

“I did not say…” Inkeri began, clapping a hand over her mouth when she remembered this was an actual interview. She tried to take a few steps backwards, suddenly very conscious of the camera. 

“Well, the test was ok considering I had a really terrible co-driver,” Robert shrugged, the corners of his mouth pulling down. Inkeri hung her head as her cheeks flamed red. She had expected Kubica to talk about his formal test with Skoda, not the few laps she had gone on in his Ford Fiesta. 

“You had a terrible co-driver?” Coulthard asked, glancing between them. “Can I ask who this terrible co-driver was?” he pressed, holding the microphone out to Kubica. 

“Who do you think?” he shrugged, winking at Inkeri where she was trying to hide out of shot. 

“Good girlfriend, terrible passenger?” David grinned. Kubica shifted his weight from foot to foot, absently scratching at his sides. “Is she a screamer?” Inkeri’s eyes widened to a comical degree; Coulthard and Kubica both froze, staring at each other in total silence for a moment. 

“Um… she’s not afraid of the driving,” Robert began, recovering a bit quicker. The evil bit of him wanted to make a joke but he also remembered that David had known Inkeri since she was a small child. “She giggles, sometimes so much she can’t give any cues. It’s very hard to concentrate.” 

The unintentional innuendo, the heat, or just remembering the drift experience, something caused Inkeri to snap. Like a woman possessed, she began laughing uncontrollably. Doubling over as she thought about the split expression Kubica had worn the entire day. He had certainly tried to act annoyed as he made a mistake and blew a lap, but after that first lap, he let go and just enjoyed the tests. 

“You’ve lost your privileges, miss,” Coulthard assumed, pointing a finger at her. Inkeri held her hands up in mock surrender. 

“I am the worst,” she mouthed, still smiling. 

“I make jokes,” Robert started, stepping out of frame and hooking a finger into her belt loop. He tugged her back to where David was standing, lazily resting his hand on the small of her back. “But there’s no one I’d rather have next to me.” Inkeri smiled up at him, totally lost in his brown eyes. It was a lovely moment, until David made retching sounds again. 

“As it should be,” she muttered, hiding her red face against Robert’s shoulder. 

“Race day!” Inkeri cheered, sneaking up behind Robert as he was tying his boots. 

“Race day,” he echoed, voice muffled as he talked at the floor. “It doesn’t feel like a great one,” he commented, straightening up. Inkeri narrowed her eyes, squatting down in front of him. 

“It doesn’t feel like a crash day,” she replied, cupping his face with both hands. 

“Not a crash day,” he reassured, placing his large hands on top of hers. “I love you.” 

“You big marshmallow,” she grinned, giving his lips a quick peck. “I love you, too. Be careful.” Inkeri pulled her hands away and stood up, offering a hand to help him up. Kubica took it, tugging her onto his lap. 

“Marshmallow,” he grumbled, dipping her into a deep kiss. Someone cleared their throat in the doorway, ending their moment. “I’m not soft.” Inkeri covered her face with both hands.

“Please don’t say that while I’m on your lap,” she muttered. Robert made a pfft noise and gave her a little shove. 

“Get off me, I have a race to do.” The grin on his face was wicked as Inkeri peered through her fingers at him. She stood up, giving him a bow until he walked by. Once his back was to her, she gave his ass a firm pinch. “Ooh!” he squawked, swatting at her hand. Robert shook his head but continued walking to the garage, trying to keep one eye on her. 

Inkeri took up her usual position in the pit, standing next to Petrov’s mother. She was still a little nervous watching him race. As the cars lined up on the grid, she was already holding onto Inkeri’s arm with a near-bruising grip. 

The start was clean, but by the first corner Mark Webber’s Red Bull had released a giant cloud of oil smoke. The visibility on track was poor and Kubica spun behind him, falling to last place behind the rest of the grid. 

Inkeri held her breath until the car was easily seen on camera again. There was no damage and she sighed, glad that he was at least whole. He might be grumpy after the race, but at least he would be healthy. 

A few laps later, Karun Chandhok became the first retirement. His front wing had been damaged after hitting a bump on the track. Not long after, Kobayashi’s race ended due to a hydraulic failure. One lap later, a Renault joined him 

Ms. Petrov’s nails dug into Inkeri’s hand as they waited to catch a glimpse of the helmet. Inkeri suppressed her sigh of relief when she saw it was Petrov. He had specifically asked for the car’s suspension to be lowered, and now he was paying the price after clipping a kerb. 

Near the end of the race, Vettel began to slow, his multi-second lead diminishing rapidly as Alonso’s Ferrari caught him. Eventually, Alonso, Massa, and Hamilton passed him. 

Inkeri cheered as Fernando crossed the line first. He had become Kubica’s best friend in the paddock and, therefore, Inkeri’s second choice to win races. She bounced on her toes a few times as Kubica finished eleventh. It was just outside the points, but still a big climb from where he had been after the first lap. 

As imagined, he was grumpy when he arrived back at the garage. His brown hair was plastered to his face as he pulled off the helmet sock, a deep frustration line between his eyes. Inkeri caught his eye for a moment, seeing the small flicker of a smile in his expression before he stalked off to talk to his engineers.

“I told you it didn’t feel like a good day,” he complained, wandering out of the hotel bathroom. He was freshly showered, water droplets accumulating on his shoulders as he shook out his still-soaking hair. 

“Feels like a pretty good day to me,” Inkeri smirked, openly ogling him as he stood in front of her with just a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“I didn’t manage to get any points.” He frowned at her, hands now resting stubbornly on his hips. 

“I’d be happy to award you some points,” she smiled, beckoning him over with one finger. “How about a base of five and you can earn extra on top of that?” 

“What’s the most I can earn?” he replied, finally sauntering over. Inkeri raised a brow at him. 

“The most?”

“Whatever it is, that’s what I plan to achieve,” Kubica winked, hooking his thumb under the towel and dropping it to the floor. 


	15. 14 May 2010 - Monaco Grand Prix

Inkeri leapt off the hotel bed as she heard the door being unlocked. She hadn’t seen Robert for nearly two months, unable to get more time away from work and school while he was gone to the fly-aways. It hadn’t been too hard to talk her professors into a few missed classes for Bahrain, but that was all she could manage until graduation. 

“Kubi!” she squealed, launching herself at him before he was even fully in the room. Kubica dropped his gym bag, wrapping his arms around Inkeri’s waist and lifting her off the ground. He kicked the door closed with his foot, turning to press Inkeri against it. She hooked her legs around his waist, tangling her fingers in his hair to tug his head back. 

Robert kissed her roughly, carrying Inkeri to the bed to set her down. Instead, she kept legs hooked around him, pulling him clumsily onto the bed on top of her. Kubica giggled as her hands immediately dove under his shirt, her fingers tickling his ribs in her haste. 

“I forgot you were ticklish,” she grinned, Robert immediately distrusting the glimmer in her eyes. “I’ll file that away for later, when I’m not embarrassingly desperate,” she admitted, her cheeks going red. Robert groaned. 

“Why do you have to say things like that?” Inkeri looked confused and a little hurt. “They make it very difficult to stick to my original plan.” 

“You have a plan?” she asked, letting her palms rest flat against his stomach. 

“Yes, it involves lots of romance for my graduate, and no sloppy, sweaty sex ten seconds after I walk through the door,” he explained, pushing himself up with his arms. Inkeri grinned, touched by his efforts. “Oh my god,” he whined, finally really looking at her. 

“Just noticed?” she questioned, quirking a brow at him. Kubica nodded. Inkeri had arrived at the hotel a little earlier than planned. She had quickly shucked her own clothes and pulled on one of Robert’s button up team shirts. 

“I’m going to romance the hell out of you later,” he growled, yanking his shirt off and grabbing her hands, pinning them to the bed above her head. 

A few hours later, they had both managed to shower and get dressed again. Robert had even managed to sneak one of Inkeri’s favourite dresses into his suitcase at the beginning of the season, pulling it out for the special evening he had planned. 

“I knew you wouldn’t bring anything since we usually stay in,” he said, handing her the black dress. 

“I have been looking for this for weeks!” she exclaimed, giving him a shove. Inkeri shook her head, trying to hide just how impressed she was.

The next part of Kubica’s elaborate plan involved dinner at a beautiful little restaurant right on the waterfront. Despite the place being packed, it still felt secluded, like they were in their own little world at the corner table overlooking the water. 

“This is a really wonderful night,” Inkeri said softly, looking out at the sunset. 

“I wanted to do something special since I couldn’t make it to your graduation,” he replied, clearly still feeling bad about missing the ceremony despite how many times Inkeri reassured him that it didn’t upset her. 

“Kubi, it’s alright. Unless something goes horribly wrong, there will be at least one more graduation you can come to,” she smiled, resting her chin in her hand. Robert pulled a small box out of his pocket and pushed it across the table in front of Inkeri. Her eyes went wide, frozen in place by her nerves. 

“Inkeri?” She blinked a few times, slowly reaching for the box. 

“It’s not a ring,” she breathed out, clearly relieved. Inkeri carefully lifted the necklace from the box, grinning at the little ‘K’ charm. “You are very cute,” she said, her smile falling a bit as she noticed the subtle frown on Robert’s face. “Kubica…”

“Later,” he encouraged, the smile not reaching his eyes. Inkeri nodded, moving from her chair to crouch down in front of him. She handed him the necklace over her shoulder, tilting her head to the side as she felt him lean closer. Robert fastened the necklace and dropped a kiss against the side of her neck, determined to put any questions out of his head until later. 

“Thank you again. The food, the view, the company,” Inkeri winked, “it was all incredible.” Robert was still quieter than usual, but he didn’t seem angry. He almost seemed nervous instead. Inkeri pulled his arm around her shoulders, linking her fingers with his as they walked back to the hotel. 

“Should I be worried?” Robert asked, his voice soft as they finally reached their room. He’d kept the question at bay as long as he could.

What?” 

“That that was your reaction to thinking it was a ring. I don’t get the sense that you want to break up, but I’m still confused at how panicked you looked.” Inkeri sighed, finally understanding what was going on. She pulled Kubica over to the bed with her, sitting down on the edge. 

“Kubi…” she began, holding up her hand when he started to interrupt her. “Just let me say this, please,” she urged, waiting until he nodded, encouraging her to continue. “I love you. So much so, that I have zero doubts about you being the absolute love of my life.” Inkeri paused, taking a deep breath to settle her nerves. She knew what she wanted, but it was still a big thing to tell him. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you; I’m just not ready for marriage yet. I’ve still got at least two more years of school and being an intern. I want to survive all of that before we start making big changes.” Robert was still quiet but he didn’t pull his hand away. “I just got scared because I feel like saying no to a proposal would upset any relationship.” 

“I think I understand that,” Kubica admitted, slowly nodding. “I don’t think I’m ready either; I just wasn’t expecting that particular reaction, but…” he shrugged, a proud grin spreading across his face, “love of your life is a pretty big thing. Must be special to earn that.” Inkeri rolled her eyes, smiling back at his now-smug expression. 

“You’re special, alright,” she jibbed, poking him in the ribs. “Oh! I almost forgot, I have something for you,” she said, walking over to pull a rolled up white cloth out of her suitcase. Inkeri held it out to him with a flourish, unfurling the white shirt. 

Kubica laughed out loud at the Donald Duck shirt. “Quack off?” 

“It’s more polite than what you usually say,” Inkeri quipped, glad that he found it funny. “I had a little too much time to wander around the markets while you were gone.” 

“So it’s my punishment for being away too long?” 

“Precisely. In retaliation, I deferred my classes until the fall semester. I was starting to feel burnt out with taking classes year-round and working non-stop, so I decided to take the summer off. You will be subjected to my company at each and every race weekend until August.” 

“You’re coming with me?” he queried, a giant smile on his face from ear to ear. 

“From now until Hungary,” she confirmed. “Classes won’t start until August 23rd.” 

“So I get to see you off for your first day of school?” Robert grinned, looking much more excited than Inkeri imagined he could. She nodded, laughing when he tackled her onto the bed. 

By Sunday morning, things were completely back to normal. It felt like there had never been an almost-bump in the road. 

Inkeri showed up to the track with Robert. She had nearly spit her coffee across the hotel room earlier when he had emerged wearing the Donald Duck shirt. All of the teasing he was sure to endure was worth it to hear her uncontrollable laughter every time she looked over at him.

She wandered down to the Williams pits as Robert headed off for a pre-race meeting. She waited outside as Frank finished up his pep talk, wandering in once he waved her over. 

“I’m starting to feel very unnecessary now that you have your own way into the paddock,” he chided, giving her arm a squeeze as she knelt down to hug him. 

“On the contrary, you should feel much more important since I choose to come see you,” Inkeri quipped, grinning at the glare Frank shot her. 

“I suppose you have a point,” he agreed glumly. “Though, I’d appreciate it if you stopped bringing so much luck to that Pole. He’s much quicker in the Renault than he ought to be.” 

“I’ve got the magic touch,” she shrugged, cringing as Frank made an ‘eww’ noise. “I didn’t mean it like that,” Inkeri grumbled, looking up at the clock. 

“Thank you for coming down here. I do appreciate that you make time for an old man,” Frank said, pulling her focus back to him. Inkeri could tell that his health was continuing to decline. 

“I’m around until Hungary so you better get used to seeing more of me,” she replied, pointing at him. “I’ll absolutely be inviting myself to dinner several times.” Frank laughed and held his hands up. 

“You’re welcome any time. Both of you.”

“Good,” she smiled, moving back towards the front of the garage. “I should probably get going if I don’t want to miss the procession to the starting grid. Good luck today!” 

“Robert doesn’t need any more luck!” Frank shouted after her, waving. 

Inkeri made it back to the Renault garage in time to see Robert walk out of his room, gloves and helmet in hand. She took the helmet as he approached, swapping him back as he held out the necklace he always wore. Inkeri closed her hand around the gold chain and stood on her tiptoes, giving Robert a quick kiss.

“Be careful out there,” she murmured, gently bumping her forehead against his. 

“I’ll do my best,” he grinned, giving her a wink before tugging his helmet on. 

The cars left the garages, proceeding around the track before lining up on the starting grid. Inkeri held her breath as the red lights ticked on. After an incredibly tense moment, they went out. 

Kubica did his best to block Vettel at the start, trying to hold onto second place as they went into the first corner. Unfortunately, Sebastian held his line, succeeding in getting around Kubica. 

Barichello managed to fight his way up into sixth, his pace strong as they went into the tunnel. Hulkenberg’s wing mount failed as he passed through, his car crashing into the wall at the tunnel exit. 

Inkeri reminded herself to unclench her fists as the safety car came out of the pits. The safety car was out for several laps, giving Fernando time to pit for fresh tires. It was an unusual strategy, but it started everyone’s first round of pit stops early as they tried to find a way out in front of the Ferrari. 

Rosberg was the only one who gambled against this strategy, staying out for several more laps. Unfortunately, it didn’t work and he found himself behind Alonso and a string of other cars as they exited the pits in front of him. 

Several laps later, Barichello suffered a suspension failure, his Williams ricocheting off the wall at Massanet. Once his car came to a stop, he threw his steering wheel out of the cockpit in frustration. 

On lap 70, Chandhok and Trulli collided. Trulli had unsuccessfully attempted a pass at Rascasse, his car winding up on top of Chandhok’s HRT, the wheels of the Lotus narrowly missing his head. 

Inkeri was incredibly tense as she realised there were only 8 laps left and 13 cars still out on track. All of the Cosworth cars had retired, along with the two BMW-Ferrari’s. By this point of the race, she was just hoping Kubica could finish, much less stay on the podium. 

Three laps later, Petrov’s brakes failed and he had to retire the other Renault. Inkeri crossed her fingers, hoping it wasn’t an issue that was going to affect Kubica’s car. 

The safety car didn’t come in until the last lap, forcing everyone to hold their positions. Schumached passed Alonso for 8th place, but the stewards ultimately determined that his pass was made illegally, giving him a 20-second penalty.

Kubica managed to hold on to third, getting his second podium of the season. He cheered as he lifted his trophy, but Inkeri could see the frustration he was trying to hide. The stress of a less successful first season with Renault was starting to wear on him, but he was determined to focus on the contract he was currently lining up with an entirely different team. 


	16. 6 February 2011 – Ronde di Andora Rally

“Stern Kubi,” Inkeri grinned, running her thumb over the crease between his eyebrows. His expression relaxed as he reached up to catch her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm.

“Focused Kubi,” he remarked, glad that Inkeri was around so much during the off season. She had made the transition into the master’s program at Oxford in January and it provided her with more time to travel, the study more research focused that classroom focused now.

“This is just stage one. Any little mistakes can be caught up in the next stage, not that you’ll make many,” she reassured, watching his mind already thinking through the course. “Be careful,” she murmured, giving his hand a final squeeze as his navigator approached.

“Always, kochanie.” Robert gave her a quick smile, turning to walk to his car.

Inkeri looked up as she heard a commotion in the launch area. People were gathering in large groups, talking about an incident on the track. Kubica’s name was the only thing she caught. 

She looked back at the monitor showing Kubica’s onboard camera. In the two minutes she had been focused on the research papers in her hands, the video had gone black. She stood and walked to the nearest group. 

“What’s happened?” she asked, nervously shuffling the papers in her grasp. One of Robert’s mechanics came up behind her, taking her arm and leading her away from the crowd. 

“Rob’s had an accident.” Inkeri stopped where she was, noticing the medics rushing to the medical van. “They’re working on stopping the other competitors and getting paramedics out there right now.” The papers scattered as they fell, her body going numb. 

“Is he out of the car?” she asked, swallowing when he shook his head. “Is he awake?” 

“Maybe you should sit down. You’ll be the first to know any news we get,” he assured, trying to guide her back to the tent. 

“I should probably go down there.” 

“They don’t want extra people-” He stopped his sentence as Inkeri turned to face him, her expression making it clear that she  _ was _ going down there. She walked away quickly, leaving her papers scattered on the ground, nothing else important now.. The medics didn’t say anything as she climbed into the ambulance, more concerned with getting to the accident. She kept her head down, trying to focus on her breathing rather than the seemingly endless minutes it took to get there. 

“Holy shit,” she exhaled, clapping a hand over her mouth as she surveyed the mangled remains of Kubica’s car. His co-driver was out, nervously pacing as he waited for the emergency personnel to get Kubica out. Gerber moved away as the firemen arrived, pulling a still stunned Inkeri away from the car. 

“The first team didn’t have the proper shears,” he explained, still shaking from adrenaline. “He passed out but he was breathing.” 

“What happened? How…” Inkeri flinched at the sound of the firemen working to cut away part of the car. 

“He slid a bit wide and hit the guardrail. There was a gap between barriers and when we hit the next, it went straight through the car.” Her knees buckled and she dropped to the ground, waving off his help. 

“Are you ok?” she asked, suddenly aware of the bruises on Gerber’s face as she looked up at him. 

“I’m just shaken up. I’ll get checked out when Rob’s out of the car.” Inkeri nodded, turning her focus back to the speared Skoda. 

“He’s going to be ok,” she said to herself, repeating it a few more times. Despite how bad the accident looked, she had to stay positive. Robert was a fighter. 

After another thirty minutes, the firemen finally had Robert out of the car. They shuffled him onto a stretcher and into an ambulance, forced to move him to an area where the helicopter could land. 

Inkeri had been struggling to stay calm, feeling more and more anxious as the time ticked by. Robert looked so young, his pale face bruised and partially obscured by the ventilator. She started to turn away as Robert’s manager approached, assuming he would be riding with Kubica to the hospital. 

“You go with him,” Daniele urged, guiding Inkeri back to the ambulance and helping her in. “If he wakes up, you’ll keep him calm.” She nodded despite barely hearing him, his words muffled through the haze she was now in. 

Inkeri lightly touched Kubica’s foot, the only part of him not covered with blankets, tubes, or straps. His bare skin was cold, but she calmly reminded herself that it was just a result of the weather outside. 

“He’s going to be ok,” she repeated in a whisper, taking a deep breath. 

Robert stirred, slowly waking up. His feet barely moved, not enough to wake Inkeri where she was half lying on the bed, half sitting in the chair at his bedside. His eyes blinked open and he tried to move, yelping in pain as his entire body screamed against the movement. Inkeri’s head popped up from where it had been resting on the bed next to him.

“You’re awake,” she croaked, very, very gently placing her hand on his left elbow. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, a tear slipping down her cheek. Robert looked at her disheveled hair and rumpled clothes, evidence that she had been here longer than a few hours. “I was so fucking worried,” she whispered, her forehead lowering to rest against his hand on the bed. He tried to reach out with his right arm, no movement happening.

“How is Jakub?” Inkeri sat up, scrubbing a hand over her face. 

“He’s fine. A little sore but otherwise ok.”

“What happened?” Robert croaked, gritting his teeth as his arm refused to move. “Inkeri,” he pressed, needing an answer. She blinked a few times to focus on him, hesitant to go back through the accident.

“You-you hit a barrier,” she stammered, swallowing thickly. “It went straight through the car,” she murmured, her voice distant as she remembered the sight of the metal guardrail poking out of the hatchback. 

“Inks, please just tell me,” he urged, hating her long pause. She nodded and took a deep breath, trying to separate her boyfriend from the driver involved in the crash.

“It took about an hour to cut you out of the car, and then some extra time to get you moved to a location the helicopter could land. You have compound fractures of your right elbow, shoulder, and leg. The doctors don’t think there will be many complications from the fractures, you’ll probably need another surgery, but…” She paused again, obviously struggling with the next part. “They aren’t sure if you’ll get use back in your right hand.” His eyes fell closed and his head sunk back into the pillow. “The barrier severed your arm. They did the best they could but…” she trailed off, feeling his left hand close into a fist. “You lost so much blood,” she mumbled, her eyes losing focus again as she remembered the sight of them pulling his limp body out of the wreck. “Weird relationship bonus, we’re the same blood type.” Inkeri tried to chuckle, the laugh turning into a sob as she clapped her free hand over her mouth. She wished she could be stronger.

“I’m here,” he said, relaxing his hand and turning the palm up. Inkeri’s fingers slotted between his. Robert was glad for all of the painkillers coursing through his system. They provided enough fog to keep his mind from spiralling, worried about how this affected their future. Everything they had been working towards, he had been fighting for, was gone. Taken away in less than a minute.

Inkeri’s future would be largely unchanged by his crash. She would finish school and begin whatever career she wanted. Robert, on the other hand, would be greatly limited in job options. None of that mattered to her, though. All she cared about was Robert still being here. 

“You don’t have to stay.” The words escaped unbidden, the negative side effect of the drugs.

“Pfft, they’d have to shoot me up with twice as many tranquilizers to drag me out of the room,” she told him, gesturing towards the IV in his arm. “I’ve already contacted my professors and two of them will let me make up the courses over the summer. The third I’ll just squeeze into a different semester. I’m not going anywhere.” Her voice was firm and he was too tired to put up much of an argument.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he asked, suddenly afraid of being alone.

“Every time, Kubi,” she promised, standing up to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I love you,” she whispered against his hair, reminded again of how lucky he was to be alive.

“I love you, too,” he replied, his eyelids drooping as sleep overtook him again.

Inkeri reached out, catching Robert’s plastic fork before it could fall completely out of his grasp. He was struggling to use his left arm for everyday tasks, the movements foreign compared to the ease of using his right. 

He made a displeased sound deep in his throat. Inkeri was being invasive again despite her best efforts to let him learn on his own. 

“Sorry, just wanted to avoid an applesauce in the bed incident,” she apologized, grinning sheepishly. Robert had been getting more irritable as he finally began making progress. He didn’t want any assistance. 

“I can feed myself,” he complained, refusing to take the fork until she sat it back on the table. Inkeri placed it back in front of him, sitting back in her chair. She crossed her arms, wondering how long it would take for him to apologize this time. “I know you’re trying to help. I just hate that you have to.” Inkeri nodded, slowly relaxing in her seat again. 

“I don’t mind,” she shrugged, stealing one of his carrot sticks. He playfully jabbed at her hand when she reached for another one. 

“I need to fuel my recovery,” he chided, a faint smile on his lips. 

“How selfish of me!” Inkeri hopped up from her chair, entirely missing the way Kubica watched her. Before the race, he would have been thinking how lucky he was, now he just realised how unlucky  _ she _ was. “My penance,” she grinned, handing him a granola bar from her backpack. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his morose expression sliding back into place. Inkeri glanced at him for a long moment, reminding herself of how hard he was fighting to get better. His focus was where it ought to be, entirely on recovery. Inkeri could wait for his attention until he was back on his feet completely. 

Three days later, Kubica’s mood hadn’t improved. If anything, he had become even more withdrawn. He spoke to Inkeri when she was there, but he rarely  _ talked _ to her. 

“I get to help out with your stretches today,” she chirped, following his physical therapist. 

“You really don’t have to.” He had a dedicated professional for this, Inkeri didn’t need to be wasting her time learning this. 

“Any excuse to touch you,” she winked, forcing her grin to stay in place when Robert’s expression didn’t change. 

After an hour, the therapist left. He made several positive comments about Kubica’s increased range of motion, but Inkeri could still feel his frustration. She could clearly see how much he wanted to leave the hospital now that his life wasn’t in danger. 

“Would you stay?” His voice was so soft, she barely caught his request. “If you have other things…” 

“Nothing,” she interrupted, shaking her head. Robert gently patted the small available space on the bed beside him. This was the first time in a week that he had wanted her that close. 

Inkeri walked around to the left side of the bed, helping him to scoot over just a bit. Once he was comfortably situated, she climbed in as carefully as she could manage. She eased herself back on the bed slowly, not wanting to jostle him. 

Robert wrapped his left arm around her, pulling Inkeri to him. She squeaked in surprise, not expecting him to do that. 

“Is this ok?” she inquired, resting her head tentatively against his shoulder. He nodded in response, afraid his voice would crack if he tried to speak. “Don’t hesitate to tell me if something starts to hurt.” Robert squeezed her just a little tighter, resting his chin against her head. 

“Everything hurts,” he admitted, glad when Inkeri didn’t pull away. 

“I’m sorry, Kubi.” Inkeri closed her eyes, wishing again that she could take his place. It didn’t feel right that Robert’s promising career had potentially been cut short. Inkeri would have gladly given up any chance she had at being an engineer just to see him back on track again. 

Inkeri’s phone vibrated on the end table next to his hospital bed. She didn’t reach for it, but it did remind her of the enormous amount of texts and calls she had been receiving lately. 

“Oh, I got a call from Coulthard yesterday. He said he tried to contact you but hadn’t gotten a response.” 

“I’ve gotten a lot of calls lately,” he replied, something hollow in his tone. 

“I’m sure you have. I just, I heard the same thing from Heidfeld and Petrov.” Inkeri felt his body tense beneath her. 

“We aren’t close. I can call them back once I’m home.” 

“Of course.” Inkeri paused, already realising he was avoiding everyone. “Alonso called as well. He really wants to visit.” Kubica shifted, clearly wanting to move away from her. 

“I don’t want to talk about this,” he said flatly, turning his head away from her. 

“He just wants to know you’re alright.” 

“Inkeri,” Kubica warned, removing his arm from her waist. Inkeri felt very alone despite Kubica being right beside her. It was terrifying. 

“I won’t talk about it. Please don’t…” Robert’s hand moved to rest against her back. She felt his chest rise and fall beneath her head as he took an extra deep breath. 

“It’s too much right now,” he murmured, his voice wavering. 

“Recovery is what’s important,” she said, parroting the words he often said back to him. His hand slid across her back, coming to rest on her waist. Inkeri lifted her right hand, linking her fingers with his. He felt a little bit more present as she listened to his heartbeat even back out. 


	17. 12 May 2011 - Como, Italy

After two months of intense therapy and several additional surgeries, Robert had finally been released to go home. His mood was buoyed by the idea of sleeping in a proper bed. He was even happier about what this step meant for his progress. 

Inkeri couldn’t help but smile back at him as they walked out of the hospital. Not even the use of a cane could dim his spirits right now. He was partially free. 

“Do I need to close my eyes?” he asked, flinching as Inkeri put the car in first gear instead of reverse. She swore under her breath, correcting herself. 

“No,” she grumbled, shaking her head. “I’m just distracted.”

“Take a minute to get focused. Three near-death car wrecks is enough for now.” Robert meant it as a joke, but, for both of them, it was too soon to be brought up flippantly. Inkeri took a deep breath, going silent for the drive to his house. 

“If you would wait just a second, I’d help you,” she explained, jogging back to the car after unlocking the front door. Robert was struggling to get out of the car, unable to hold onto his cane and push himself up from the seat at the same time. 

“I want to do it myself,” he said roughly, ignoring her hand. 

“Robert,” she warned, worried he could injure himself again. Inkeri caught him as he stumbled forward, finally making it out of the car. He was unsteady on his feet but he still shrugged her hand off. 

“Don’t  _ Robert _ me. I have to learn to do it myself.” Inkeri clenched her hands into fists once his back was turned, wishing he wouldn’t be so stubborn. She bit down the urge to tell him to grab his own bag, instead, retrieving it before following him into the house. 

Once inside, Robert had already retreated into the bedroom, pushing the door closed behind him. Inkeri shook her head, not needing a visual representation of his closed off mentality. She sat down at the kitchen table, dragging a textbook across the wood surface. School work was at least a positive escape from the tension between them. 

“I’m sorry,” Robert said softly, placing his hand on Inkeri’s shoulder. Her head jerked up from the table, having fallen asleep studying. Robert nearly grinned as he pulled a post-it off her cheek. “I know you’re just trying to help.” Inkeri nodded, forcing herself to stay still as he carefully eased himself into the chair next to her. 

“We will get through this, Kubi. It’s just got to be together.” Despite his apology, she could still see the walls he had put up. 

“Together,” he agreed, reaching for her hand. “Will you help me change for bed?” Inkeri’s smile was genuine as she looked at him. It was small, but he was asking for help. 

“Have I ever said no to taking your clothes off?” Robert rolled his eyes, but the left side of his mouth curved up. 

Inkeri bolted up in bed, startled awake by a nightmare. Her dreams were becoming less frequent over the weeks they were home, but there were still nights that she awoke like this, panting and drenched in a cold-sweat.

She looked over at Kubica. He was still sound asleep. It was the fifth night in a row that he had moved away from her, taking to sleeping as far away as possible. Inkeri swallowed hard, filled with dread at the new pattern. 

After another minute, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, rising silently. She held still, making sure Robert hadn’t stirred. As his breathing stayed even, she snuck out of the room. 

Inkeri kept the lights off, finding her way into the back corner of the closet. This had become her refuge as of late. She sat on the floor, pulling her knees to her chest. Her hand pressed tightly over her mouth, she felt the tears start to fall. These were the moments she desperately wanted to keep hidden from Kubica. He didn’t need to see her weakest moments. 

Back in the bedroom, Robert lay awake. He had been careful to keep still, wanting Inkeri to think he was still asleep. He had felt her jump awake, but in his current state, he couldn’t wrap his arms around her. He couldn’t comfort her. 

“Where have you been all day?” Robert asked, surprising Inkeri as she walked into the house. He hadn’t been very concerned with her whereabouts lately. 

“I might have talked your physical therapist into teaching me some of the exercises. I know you’ve been wanting to do more and I thought maybe…” 

“I don’t need you to learn these things,” he interrupted. Inkeri’s attempts at  _ help _ were bordering on invasive. 

“I didn’t mean to overstep,” she murmured, the hurt clear in her tone. He was pushing her away, and in response, she was overcompensating. “It’s not my place,” she conceded, automatically reaching for the bottle cap he had just dropped. 

“No, it’s not. Stop trying to help!” he shouted, sweeping the water bottle and a stack of papers off the counter with his left hand. Inkeri glared at him, the urge to tell him to pick it up himself leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. 

Robert turned and stormed out of the room, ignoring the look on Inkeri’s face. She shook her head, mumbling under her breath as she grabbed a towel to wipe up the water. She knew Robert would apologize later, but that was starting to matter less and less. 

“Thank you for trying so hard,” he whispered, reaching for her hand in the dark. They had both been lying awake for hours, pretending to be asleep so they wouldn’t have to face reality. 

“I love you, Kubi,” she murmured softly, rolling over to curl against his side. 

“I don’t deserve it.” Inkeri pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. “I’m not going to make it back for the season.” 

“You don’t know that,” she disagreed, carefully draping her arm across his chest. 

“We both know that.” Robert’s voice cracked, his breathing stuttering as he tried not to cry. Inkeri cupped her hand around the back of his neck, scooting up the bed so she could rest her forehead against the side of his head. 

“Just like I told your father, my love for you has nothing to do with your driving career. I will still be here whether you get back in a car or not.” Inkeri felt the dampness on his cheeks, running her fingers through his hair. It had gotten longer over the past few months, and she had learned that combing her fingers through it soothed him. “Do I need to sing Whitney Houston to you?” 

“Please don’t sing that,” he replied quickly, a small laugh escaping him. “Maybe that Elton John song you played for me,” he conceded. Inkeri grinned, moving to kiss him. For the first time in weeks, Robert kissed back. 

He moaned into Inkeri’s mouth as she ran her hand down his chest. Robert hadn’t shown any interest in her physically lately. Tonight, though, he felt more present than he had since the accident. 

“Do you want to hear the song or…” she trailed off, her hand dipping below the waistband of his shorts. Deep down, she knew they should probably keep talking. It wasn’t always the best choice to forego mental intimacy for physical, but Inkeri was too intoxicated by the longing in his eyes. He wanted her and that was enough for now. 

“Please, please, please,” he begged, his good hand grabbing a fistful of her nightgown. Inkeri smiled against his neck as she started to leave a mark, more than happy to oblige. 

In the three months since his accident, every doctor they had been to see basically told them the same thing. Robert could recover some motion in his hand, but he would never be a racing driver again. He had brushed most of the opinions off, continuing to seek out new professionals who were willing to look at his case. However, something had snapped recently.

A fan had approached him in town, just wanting to thank Robert for all of the great races he had driven. They had been great to watch and Kubica should be proud of such a career to leave behind. To Robert, though, it felt like the man definitely saw him as a past icon in the sport. Now, even fans were looking at him as though he would never drive again.

Robert tried to be polite but he knew his frustration was evident. No one had faith that he would ever recover. No one thought he could race.

“That’s a grumpy face,” Inkeri mentioned, dropping a kiss to the top of his head as she walked by. She sat at the table next to him, organizing the folders she would need to take back to campus. It wasn’t the best timing, but she hoped a little break from each other could be positive. 

Robert threw his mobile phone across the kitchen, standing up from the table and pacing. Inkeri flinched, startled by the loud noise. Robert’s outbursts were becoming more frequent, but they were still a jarring change from his previous behaviour. Looking at his expression, Inkeri was afraid she already knew why he was upset. The doctors had refused to clear him for driving yet, and it had been a big setback.

“Ferrari cancelled my contract.” Inkeri walked towards him, reaching for his arm. They had both known this was going to happen, but it didn’t make it any easier. “My one chance at the future I wanted, and it’s totally fucked,” he snarled, pulling away from her.

“We will get through this,” she tried to soothe, staying where she was. “There are other options besides…”

“This isn’t like your job. This,” he continued, holding up his scarred right arm. “This is the worst thing that could have happened to me.”

“No, it isn’t. You could have died, Kubi,” she argued, surprised at his attitude.

“Better I had,” he muttered, dropping onto the sofa. His life felt like it was spinning out of his control, and he was irrationally angry at everything around him.

“Better you had?” she questioned, her voice rising as he met her gaze with no hint of remorse.

“Yes! I lost everything in that rally,” he fumed. All of his options had vanished, relinquished to a future where his partner would be responsible for him. He had started to see some possibility of moving on, but now, all he could see were the images plastered over the news of the end of his career. Pictures of him on a stretcher. Photos of the nearly unrecognizable Skoda. Worst of all, paparazzi shots of Inkeri helping him put on a sweater over his mangled arm while the other was clinging to his cane.

Even more unwelcome than the public vision, were his private visions. Robert had lost his independence, forced to ask his partner to help him bathe when he had knocked a cup of juice into his lap. His body was weakening, muscles disintegrating as he remained largely immobile. 

Inkeri had never complained out loud, but the frustration was clear in her eyes as she had to cut up his dinner yet again. Robert never said thank you. Instead, he was foul tempered and often ignored her completely. 

“I’m still here,” Inkeri replied, wondering when that stopped being enough.

“You are, and every time I look at you all I see is the future I lost. Your presence constantly reminds me just how pathetic I am and I hate it,” he shot back, standing up as she groaned, obviously annoyed with him.

“I might not know what you’re going through right now, but I do know what it feels like to lose someone. Stop sitting here acting like this only affects you,” she snapped, angrily shoving a book into her backpack. 

“Believe me, I  _ know _ how much this affects you. I see how much you hate taking care of me. How do you think it feels being a burden?” Inkeri jumped up from the table, marching towards him. 

“What I hate is how mean you are. I knew you could be difficult, but I didn’t realise you could be so cruel. All you do lately is wallow in self pity,” she shot back, regretting the words as soon as they were out. Inkeri wanted to apologize, but the words wouldn’t come out. Nothing she said would be enough to erase the defeated look now on Robert’s face. 

“I don’t think you should come back, Inkeri,” he said softly, refusing to look at her. Inkeri’s jaw dropped. The words hung in the air between them, the silence repressive. Robert risked a glance at her. She looked betrayed, and it stung a lot more than expected. “I’m obviously not the man you fell in love with, so why are you still here?” Robert nearly whined, realising he would have to end their relationship to save her from his future. He was nearly a foot taller than Inkeri, but he had never looked smaller, his shoulders slumped as he surrendered to his darkest thoughts.

“I’m here because I thought I was worth it to you.” Her voice wavered, but she stood her ground, staring up at him. “Give up all you want, Kubi, but I will never stop believing in you.”

“I wish you would,” he muttered, bumping her shoulder as he pushed past her. “I’ll hire a service to get my things from the apartment,” he added over his shoulder, refusing to look back at her. There was a thud as he tossed her bag into the hallway, slamming the bedroom door.

Inkeri stared after him, shocked at how things had just changed. She was too stunned to really register what had happened. She grabbed her overnight bag from the hallway, picking up her backpack on the way out the door. Inkeri threw them into the boot of her car before collapsing into the driver’s seat. She let her head drop onto the steering wheel, finally letting herself scream in frustration. 

After a few minutes, she sat up. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to understand why Robert had closed himself off. He was going through something massive, and while that wasn’t an excuse for his behaviour, Inkeri reminded herself that she couldn’t understand what he was going through. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, sending a text to Alonso. No matter how angry she was, she still wanted someone to check in on Robert. 

  
  



	18. 4 May 2011 - Oxford, England

David looked at the name on his caller i.d. in surprise. He hadn’t heard much from Inkeri since Kubica’s accident, but he had just assumed that was normal. They were both going through something incredibly life altering. And, no one else had heard from Robert at all since the accident. 

“Hello?” he answered tentatively, surprised at how worried he felt. 

“Hey, sorry for the random call. Can I stay with you and Karen on Saturday night?”

“Is everything ok?” he asked, eschewing an answer entirely. 

“Yea, everything is fine. I just want to stay closer to the airport so I can avoid the really long train ride,” Inkeri explained, not ready to share the full picture with David. 

“You’re always welcome here,” he answered hesitantly. Every once in a while she would stay the night with them before a flight but something felt off. “Are you sure everything…” 

“I already told you, everything is fine,” she interrupted, her tone clearly irritated now. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have called. I’m not going to come by,” she added, changing her mind suddenly. David meant well, but Inkeri was in no way ready to answer any questions. 

“Wait, Inkeri, what’s going on?” 

“Nothing,” she snapped, sighing. “I’ve got to go but I’ll call you guys and get together for dinner when I’m back in town.” Inkeri ended the call abruptly, smacking the phone down on the couch next to her. 

David stared at his phone screen for several seconds, unsure what had just occurred. He sat in silence for a few more minutes before calling Frank. 

Two weeks later, he still hadn’t heard a word from Inkeri. He had finally driven out to her apartment only to find it devoid of any trace of Robert and a large portion of Inkeri’s clothing missing. She had clearly gone somewhere. 

Frank had no idea where she was or how long she would be gone. They were both worried about her disappearance, annoyed that she had run off again. Finally, David called Kubica. 

It took over a dozen calls before the Pole actually answered one day, his voice angry. 

“What?” he answered, too miffed to bother with a hello. 

“Robert, it’s David. I’m sorry to obviously bother you, but I’m trying to find Inkeri,” David explained, hoping politeness would be the right tack. 

“She’s not here,” he said flatly. “She’s probably at school.” Robert was annoyed that David would call him first. Hadn’t Inkeri told him anything? 

“Frank called the school and she’s not registered for summer courses. I went by your apartment and some of her stuff is missing. I was hoping you’d just gone on holiday and she’d forgotten her phone.” 

“I told her not to come back here. She was at the apartment a couple of weeks ago to let the movers in to get my things. That’s all I know.” Robert gritted his teeth at the ‘What!’ that echoed loudly through the phone. David was obviously building up to a very loud rant and Kubica had no interest in hearing it. He ended the call and started to switch his phone off, pausing when he noticed a text from Eric Boullier. 

-Are you going to the Firestone Twin with Inkeri this weekend? Just need to know for accomodation and sending team wear.-

Robert chewed the inside of his cheek. Inkeri had left the UK without even a word. He didn’t deserve to know where she went, but it still hurt. He typed out a simple no before sending a message to David.

-She’s in Texas.-

“Hey, David,” Inkeri answered, finally accepting one of the dozen calls she had received in the past week. 

“So you’re still alive,” he replied drily, clearly displeased with Inkeri’s silence. 

“I am alive,” she agreed, stifling a yawn. She had been working for almost 17 hours straight, hoping to avoid jet-lag. More importantly, she was trying to avoid any spare time. 

“Stanley called. He wanted to see how the move was going.” Inkeri cringed. 

“I meant to call you before someone else said anything,” she started, pausing when David scoffed. 

“Meant to call? You meant to call?!” he complained, his volume increasing. “You moved and didn’t think it was worth any mention to me or Frank?” Inkeri took a deep breath and waved to her new boss, stepping out of the office to continue this conversation. 

“I’m not a child. I’ve been living on my own since I was 16. You’re not my guardian,” she grumbled, knowing that hadn’t been the reason for her secret keeping. “I didn’t answer because I knew it was just going to be a lecture.” David sighed. 

“Are you finished?” Inkeri mumbled something similar to a yes. “I know I’m not your guardian, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you,” he chided, hearing Inkeri take a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I’ll relay the message that you’re in one piece, but you will eventually need to call Frank. I might have asked if he’d heard from you. He was a bit worried, but I called him back once I knew where you were,” David added. “I had to call Kubica fifteen times before he finally answered.”

Inkeri’s heart plummeted at the unexpected mention of Robert. She had been doing her best to avoid any thoughts of him and now, sleep-deprived and completely alone in a drab hotel, he was at the forefront. 

“Kubica?” she asked, swallowing hard. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Ink? I didn’t realise he was such a bastard you had to flee the continent.”

“It’s not like that,” Inkeri countered, wishing her voice was steadier. “He didn’t…” She stopped, refusing to talk about Robert and whatever had happened between them. Inkeri was frustrated with him, but that didn’t mean she was going to whine about it to someone else. Robert’s struggle was personal to him and she certainly wouldn’t break that. “I wanted a chance to do something else. Get some actual time in the pits on my resume.” 

David sighed. He still wanted to know what had happened, but he knew Inkeri wouldn’t share any more details. “How did you even get into Indy that fast?”

“Lotus. It wasn’t too hard to get placed in the Indy internship with everything else going on. Technically it’s KVRT - Lotus.”

“Takuma Sato is the driver who lured you out of F1?” he asked in disbelief before the other shoe dropped. “Lotus-Renault. Pretty clever using Kubica’s Lotus contract to get yourself into a new series,” David chuckled. “Just check in, Inkeri. That’s all I ask. If you’re going to move to the US, at least fucking call.” 

“I will,” she agreed, knowing it was the right thing to do, regardless. “Just give me some time to sort my head out and I’ll be back in September to terrorize you. I won’t have an internship lined up this fall so I’ll be completely bored and in need of a family to feed me.” A woman’s voice shouted something in the background. 

“You’re always welcome here as long as you don’t try to cook or tinker with Dayton’s kart again,” David said, clearly repeating whatever Karen had shouted at him. Inkeri grinned sheepishly, remembering tweaking a few small things on Dayton’s Christmas gift. A three year-old probably didn’t need any extra speed. 

“I promise to keep my hands in my pockets.”

The next morning, Inkeri woke up in a terrible mood. She had slept poorly, her thoughts filled with Robert Kubica. When she wasn’t having nightmares about the accident, she was wide awake and starkly aware of who wasn’t there. 

She rolled out of bed and walked to the tiny kitchenette to make a cup of instant coffee in the hotel coffee pot. She scrunched up her nose as she looked at it, even the smell was wrong. She took a tiny sip and grimaced. It tasted even worse than she imagined. 

As the bitter taste filled her mouth, she remembered all of the wonderful cups of coffee Kubica had made for her. Her thoughts swirled with memories of them cuddled together on the couch, sharing coffee-tinged kisses. The kisses usually escalated, resulting in several coffee stains on term papers and the sofa. 

Inkeri felt her eyes well up as she realised she would trade anything to have that back. At the time, she had hated those stupid stains, but now she just missed them. Missed  _ him _ . 

“Stupid fucking Kub… coffee,” she corrected, hurling the paper cup at the sink as her voice faltered. She wasn’t even bothered by the brown splatters across the counter. She growled in annoyance as she buried her face in her hands, sinking to the floor. 

She let herself sit on the cold tile and wallow for precisely five minutes before she pushed off the ground, setting about her morning routine. The cold shower did very little to perk her up and she dabbed extra concealer under her eyes to disguise the deep purple.

“Hey intern, coffee run. Want anything?” Inkeri didn’t even look up at the mechanic. 

“I don’t drink coffee,” she groused, ignoring the laugh. 

“Fourteen hour days and no coffee? D’you just run on spite?” he asked, grinning when she finally glanced at him, a glare on her face. She took a deep breath, realising he was teasing her. 

“Sorry, bad night,” she mumbled, knowing she was being a jerk. It had been two weeks, but her sleep hadn’t improved at all. She sat up a little straighter, rolling her shoulders back. “Thanks for the offer, I’m just more of a tea drinker,” she lied, finally looking at him. 

“Well, if you ever want some company,” he shrugged, looking hopefully at her. Inkeri shook her head quickly, used to dodging this type of question. Being one of the very few girls around made her popular with the lads. 

“Oh, that’s a... nice offer, but I’ve got someone at home.” Inkeri blanched as soon as the words left her mouth. Not only was that a complete lie, but maybe he hadn’t been insinuating it would be a date. “I’m sorry, that’s really presumptuous. I don’t even know your name and I’m already assuming…”

“It’s Paul, and I was asking you out. Lucky guy you’ve got at home,” he added, giving her a friendly wink. 

“He’s something,” she replied, skirting the actual truth. Paul, and all the other mechanics and interns, turned to watch as Takuma walked into the garage. It was rare to have a driver come in so early on a Thursday. 

“I heard a rumour that you were hiding out in the garages,” he said, walking over and immediately pulling Inkeri into a hug. She tensed up at the contact. They hadn’t been close during his time in F1 and lately a random hug meant… “How is Robert? I couldn’t believe it when I heard about his accident.” 

“Um,” Inkeri stalled, wishing there was a way to avoid this conversation entirely. “Recovery is a long process.” Takuma nodded, satisfied with the short answer. The faces in the garage slowly turned to face her, looking puzzled. The ignorance of the Indy paddock was about to end, wiping out her momentary refuge. 

“If you hang up on me, I will show up at your house,” Fernando threatened, a little surprised Kubica had answered at all. 

“Why can’t anyone respect my space?” Fernando snorted. 

“You’ve had six months of space, three of total solitude. Enough,” he said roughly, tired of Kubica’s way of dealing with the aftermath. “Have you called?” 

“Called who?” Robert fibbed, pacing nervously. He knew exactly who Fernando meant. Fernando began angrily muttering in Spanish, the volume of his voice increasing as he ranted. “She’s gone to America, Nando,” he interrupted. “I told her not to come back and she listened.” The  _ for once _ echoing silently in his head. Robert hated that Inkeri had finally chosen to do what he asked. 

“I know. I still talk to Sato,” Alonso replied plainly. “He asked after you and she never mentioned anything about being out of your life.”

“It doesn’t change anything,” Robert huffed, wearily rubbing a hand over his face. Fernando had been after him to call Inkeri for weeks. 

“You’re being a stubborn jackass. Inkeri told them she had someone waiting for her at home. She’s coming back.” Fernando’s tone was firm, allowing no room for argument. 

Robert stayed silent, the thought of Inkeri coming back was overwhelming. Alonso muttered something under his breath before hanging up, not waiting for Robert to respond. 

Kubica sat down heavily on the couch. Inkeri was coming home. The more he thought about it, the clearer the picture of her became in his mind. The tiniest seed of hope planted itself in his chest. 

“Life’s short, and I’m done wallowing,” he said aloud, scrolling through his phone contacts until he found the name he was looking for. It was time to get back in the car. 


	19. 7 July 2012 - Silverstone, England

Inkeri walked into the Williams pit early Saturday morning. She felt nauseous as she ran her hand over the body of the car. It all felt different without Kubica just down pit lane. It all felt empty. 

Further down the way, she heard chattering and the sounds of the rest of the garages filling up with team members. For the first time, she didn’t feel excited as an engine started up. 

“Intruder!” someone shouted behind her, grabbing her in a hug before Inkeri even had time to look around. 

“You almost gave me a heart attack!” she complained, elbowing him to get out of his grasp. 

“You? What about me? I come into the garage and there’s an elf rubbing my car,” Bruno griped, giving Inkeri a shove. 

“Dickhead,” she groused, a smile breaking onto her face. Inkeri put her hands on his shoulders, looking him over. “You look like a proper driver now, all decked out in your Williams gear.” 

“You know this isn’t my first year in F1, right?” Inkeri rolled her eyes. 

“It’s the first time you aren’t a replacement, or being replaced midseason.” Bruno’s mouth dropped open. 

“Well, someone’s still got a temper,” he quipped, quickly turning so his shins were hidden. 

“Sorry,” she sighed, looking deflated. “Last year was…” 

“It’s alright,” he said gently, looking at her with some of the same pity most people did. “I do feel like a proper driver, though. It’s very special to be in my uncle’s team,” he agreed, nodding. “What about you? I heard you left the engineering program.” 

“Not exactly, I graduated in May,” she corrected. “I’m thinking about going to work for a rally team.” She grimaced slightly as she thought about how much worse it might feel being in a rally team without Kubica around. 

“I’m going to WEC next year if you want another option,” he suggested. “Not that you don’t look thrilled about rally,” Bruno grinned, not dodging her hand quickly enough. 

“You’d really put in a good word for me?” 

“Of course,” Bruno said, looking surprised that she would even ask. “You have a really good reputation in racing. It’s one of those worlds where we all know someone who knows someone who knows someone…” he trailed off, gesturing that the list just kept going. “You get my point.” 

“Yea, I would really appreciate that,” she nodded, liking the idea of a series Kubica hadn’t raced in. Inkeri shook her head briefly, reminding herself to stop thinking about him so much. 

“Bruno, are you honestly sending her away again?” Frank asked, joining them in the garage. 

“Aston Martin is based locally,” he reminded. Frank’s eyebrows rose slightly. 

“Well, I’ll put in a word for her as well, if she ever bothers to return my phone calls,” he groused, still talking like Inkeri wasn’t standing next to him. 

“She’s standing right here,” Inkeri added, rolling her eyes when Frank pretended not to recognize her. 

“Who are you?” he asked, giving her a stern look. She felt herself shrink just a bit under his gaze. 

“I promise to be better about keeping in touch. You know I’m better at running away than actually dealing with things,” Inkeri explained, leaning down to hug him. 

“Sometimes you have to stop and face them,” he said, patting her arm. 

“I’m working on it,” she assured, trying to keep her smile in place. 

Inkeri looked back to the screens as the first few cars went out on track for qualifying. She grinned as Fernando easily put his car in the top spot after just three laps. His Ferrari was back in the pits before everyone else had even gone out for Q1. 

The rain kept falling and eventually Q2 began. The first four cars out spun within minutes. Just a few more after that, the session was red flagged. 

Inkeri sighed and slumped into a chair near the back of the garage. Everyone was rushing about, getting the car back into the pits and ready to take off again once the track was reopened. No one knew how long they would be waiting so they had to be fully prepared. 

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, pulling her attention away from where Bruno was sitting, his helmet still on with the visor down. 

-I heard a rumour you were at the track- She frowned at Fernando’s name for a moment, several emotions coursing through as she typed out a reply. 

-I am. Down at Williams.-

-Good. Meet me for a drink later.- Her thumb hovered over the keys, her mind instantly saying no. -Aren’t we still friends?- 

-Yes.-

-Just come to my motorhome at 7.- 

Inkeri put the phone back in her pocket. It was going to be difficult to spend time with Fernando and not ask about Robert. As far as she knew, Alonso was the only one he’d spoken to in the paddock since the accident.

The track finally reopened after 90 agonizing minutes. The remaining 17 qualifiers would have time for one flying lap, so tire selection was crucial. Untrue to his nature, Bruno was very conservative, only managing to qualify 15th. 

Inkeri cheered appropriately as Maldonado made it through to Q3, along with Fernando’s Ferrari. The other Ferrari made it, along with the two Red Bull’s and Mercedes. She wished Coulthard could have still been with Red Bull, he deserved a few more podiums. 

In Q3, Alonso and Massa quickly took the top spots. It took several more laps before Webber and Vettel finally challenged them, knocking them off the front row. Pastor put in a few good laps, managing to get himself into 7th, ahead of Hamilton. 

Massa wasn’t able to improve, winding up 5th behind both of the Red Bull’s and Schumacher. Fernando, though, put in a stellar lap, earning him pole position. 

Inkeri waited until a little after 7 to walk over to the Red Fortress. She had dubbed it that after seeing the imposing pop up they called a motorhome. There had been lots of extra people milling around after Alonso’s pole position, and she wanted to let some of the hubbub die down. 

“You are late,” Fernando said, opening the door before she could knock. 

“Sorry, there were…” Alonso pulled her into a tight hug before she could finish her sentence, the wind nearly knocked out of her as he squeezed her to his chest. 

“I’m so sorry, I tried to make him call,” he said, words muffled against her hair. 

“No, no, no,” she wheezed, wriggling away from him. “If you do the sentimental thing, I’m going to get emotional.” Alonso looked completely defeated. Inkeri couldn’t tell if it was from her pushing him away, or Robert disappearing on all of them. “If you look at me like that,” she paused, her bottom lip wobbling. “I will cry and it will be miserable for both of us.” 

“Then, stop waiting for an invitation and come in,” he huffed, easily masking his sad look with a frown. Inkeri grinned at him, slipping past him into the motorhome. 

“How ya been, Freddy?” she asked, taking the beer he offered. To her surprise, Alonso rolled his eyes. 

“My best friend is a grumpy asshole, I’m at a team I hate, and my divorce was finalised last month. So, pretty good,” he said sarcastically, downing nearly the entire bottle in one drink. 

“Living the dream?” she grinned, clinking her bottle against his empty one. “I’m sleeping on any couch I can to avoid going back to the apartment I’m too soft to sell.”

“Is that what happens when people leave? You wander around this big empty space feeling haunted?” Inkeri polished off her beer, grimacing at him. 

“We’re a very grim pair.” Fernando nodded, retrieving two more beers. He sat his on the side table, reaching for a game controller. He handed it to Inkeri along with her drink. 

“FIFA?” She nodded, knowing they didn’t have much to talk about that wouldn’t bring them back to their depressing personal lives. 

After several games, and several beers, they had pushed the controllers aside, finally relaxed enough to just laugh about the old days. 

“Do you remember the time we tried to drag Kubica to that flamenco club in Valencia?” Alonso leaned his head back on the couch, laughing loudly. 

“He kept flinching every time they stomped,” he said, flinching for emphasis. “And he turned so red when you and Raquel were dancing together.” 

“His mind was definitely painting a different picture,” Inkeir chuckled, shaking her head at the memory of Kubica barely hiding his staring. Her laughter slowed, and she slouched a bit further down, resting her head on Alonso’s shoulder. “I really miss him. I haven’t said it outloud, but…” 

“Me too,” Fernando agreed, shifting to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Probably in a different way, but I know what you mean,” he added, grinning to himself. “I wanted a divorce, but I still hate being alone.” 

“I have no doubt you’ll find someone else,” Inkeri assured him, leaning her head back to look at him. “She’s out there.” Fernando’s smile faded a bit as he looked down at her. It took a moment, but Inkeri became aware of how much closer he seemed. Alonso pressed his lips against hers tentatively, waiting to see if she pulled away. She held very still, a million thoughts running through her head. 

Her eyes slowly closed as she finally kissed him back, her hand slipping behind his head. Alonso pulled away, needing to see if she looked horrified. The way he looked at her, like he wanted her, felt good. It had been over a year since anyone looked at her that way, and she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed it. 

Inkeri tilted her head, wondering if Fernando was regretting it already. It was a very bad idea. She started to lean away, her focus brought back as he settled his hand on her waist, encouraging her to come closer. 

He kissed her again, his lips more insistent this time as his confidence grew. Inkeri threaded her fingers through his hair, tossing her leg across his lap. His hands rested on her thighs as she straddled him, his fingers tips digging in as she opened her mouth. 

They both froze when his phone rang, the sharp noise shattering whatever spell they had been under. Inkeri blinked at him a few times, moving across the room so quickly he was still holding his hands in the air, molded to the space she had just been occupying. 

She looked terrified. Alonso hadn’t seen that look before, and he certainly didn’t like it. 

“Don’t go just yet, I’m sorry, I didn’t... “ his voice trailed off as he looked at his phone, a second call coming in. Alonso looked back at her, something in his eyes making her dread his answering the call. “Hi, Rob,” he answered, holding the phone to his ear. Inkeri gulped; she knew Kubica couldn’t see her, but she still felt caught. “Yea, she’s here.” Alonso went quiet for a moment, his eyes widening at whatever was being said. “That’s not…” He stopped again, obviously interrupted. 

Inkeri stepped forward, wringing her hands. She could sense it wasn’t a very positive conversation. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk to her. You should calm down.” She met his eyes and held out her hand for the phone. Alonso clearly didn’t want to pass the call over. 

“You still don’t need to protect me from his moods,” she said, referencing the many times Fernando had tried to shield her from Robert’s nastier moments after a bad race. It had only taken them six months to work out an easy routine when he was angry after a race. She knew how to deal with an unhappy Robert Kubica. 

Fernando sighed, still clearly conflicted. Slowly, he lowered the phone, holding it out to Inkeri. 

“Robert,” she said quietly, all of her courage vanishing as she heard his voice. 

_ “What are you doing in his motorhome?” _ His tone was agitated, but it was so, so good to hear his voice again. 

“We were just catching up,” she explained. Robert scoffed. “You don’t get to do that,” she said, bristling. “Whatever I’m doing, it’s none of your business. You made that choice, not me.” Inkeri took a deep breath, realising her voice was getting much too loud. This wasn’t the calm, rational conversation she had pictured having with Kubica the first time they spoke again. 

_ “Choice? What choice did I make?” _

“You cut me out of your life!” Inkeri shouted, closing her eyes against the tears. “I am so angry at you,” she said, her voice much softer. She could still hear Robert breathing, but he was otherwise silent. “I love you, Kubi. I just… I can’t do this right now.” Inkeri hung up the phone, pressing it into Alonso’s hand. “I am so sorry,” she told him, scrubbing a hand across her face. 

“Me too,” he nodded, a very small smile on his face. “It didn’t mean anything, did it?” Inkeri shook her head. 

“No. I’m so mad at him for all of this, but there will never be anyone else,” she said, a look of resignation on her face. “He just needs time to figure it out.” 

“He  _ will _ figure it out,” Fernando nodded, pulling her into a quick hug before walking her to the door. 

Inkeri didn’t stop at the Williams’ motorhome. She kept walking until she got to her car, getting in and driving back to her apartment. It was time to start facing things. 


	20. 7 March 2014 – Ford World Rally Team, Cumbria, England

Inkeri wandered into the cafeteria, desperately needing caffeine to propel her through the rest of the afternoon. She was mired deep in an update to the rally chassis. The fourteen hour days were catching up to her and she barely glanced up at the TV some of the guys were crowded around.

“Isn’t that the guy you have a photo with in your office?” Inkeri heard the question but continued making her tea, assuming it must have been intended for someone else. She wasn’t exactly close with her co-workers. “Inkeri, don’t you know that guy?” This time, she stopped what she was doing and looked up.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise… oh,” she paused, looking at the screen. The cameras were focused on an incredibly serious looking Robert Kubica.  _ Focused Kubica _ , she thought, plainly hearing his voice in her head.

His dark hair was still grown out and he now sported a full beard to complete his mountain man look. Kubica’s face was rounder than the last time she had seen him. His head was turned to look at the man sitting next to him, his face only partially visible now under the hood of his jacket. Inkeri felt her chest constrict painfully. She missed him very much. 

“That’s Robert Kubica,” one of the mechanics chimed in. Several of them recognized him but a few more looked confused. “He was a Formula 1 driver years ago.”

“Who leaves F1 for rally?” another asked, earning a few nods of agreement.

“He had a massive rally crash, nearly lost his arm, I think. I guess they fixed some of it, but it still ended his F1 career. Such a shame,” someone answered.

“Paused it,” Inkeri interjected, not realizing she had said it aloud until most of them swiveled to look at her. “He’ll get back to F1 if he wants to. He’s a good driver.”

“Whatever you say,” he snickered. “No chance he’s beating our boys, though.” As the standings were shown, Robert was pretty far down. He had suffered an accident in an earlier stage and he probably wouldn’t be able to catch the Ford Fiesta.

“Bet he will next time,” she shrugged, taking a sip of her drink and heading back to her office, not waiting to hear the complaints from the group. Inkeri sat down heavily at her desk and opened her phone, staring at Robert’s number. They hadn’t spoken in two years, but she thought about calling him at least once per week. More, now that she was working for a rally team.

After five minutes, she shook her head and put her phone away. Robert was going to have to make the first move. She knew it was silly, but she wasn’t going to be the first to reach out.

Inkeri jumped as someone buzzed the intercom in her office. It was a Sunday, and, while she hated working on a weekend, she loved the peace and quiet she normally got.

“This is Inkeri,” she answered, wondering who was calling her from the kitchen.

“Could you come to the cafeteria for a moment?” She closed her eyes for a few beats, wishing it was anyone besides her boss calling. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell  _ him _ to fuck off. 

“On my way.” Inkeri closed the file she was working on with a sigh, hoping he didn’t actually need anything.

“Will told me you jinxed us,” he said, pointing to the TV. Inkeri looked at the screen, watching as the rally car bounced over the ruts dug into the dirt road. The dust made an impressive roostertail as the car slid sideways through a corner. “Kubica is over a minute and a half faster than Protasov.” Liam hadn’t needed to use his name; Inkeri recognized his driving immediately. 

“All I said was that he's a good driver,” she replied, putting a hand over her mouth to hide the grin she was wearing. As the last drivers came in, it was clear Kubica had won Acropolis.

“Do you know him well enough to bring him here?” Liam asked, wondering if his bosses would have any interest in the Polish driver. Inkeri shook her head.

“No,” she answered shortly, shaking her head. Her phone vibrated in her hand. She looked down, surprised to see a text from the very person they were discussing. -Life’s short and I miss you-

Inkeri looked back at the TV, watching as he handed the phone off to someone as he walked up to the interviewer. His expression was stern as always, but his dark eyes looked a little brighter. Robert was starting to find himself again.

“I’m not ready,” she muttered under her breath. 

Inkeri rushed around her office, packing up boxes and making sure notes were organized. She had turned in a three month notice to the team, but they had managed to keep her so busy that packing had been pushed to her final weekend.

Two hours later, she had resorted to sitting under her desk, rifling through a stack of loose papers. She had been desperately trying to get them colour coded but people kept interrupting, hence her new hideaway.

“I’ve got to introduce you to our mad scientist,” Liam said, leading their newest driver down the hallway. “Brilliant at the job and a secret fan,” he added, his tone conspiratorial almost. Normally, he wouldn’t take the time to introduce any engineers and drivers who wouldn’t be working directly together, but he had seen the photos in Inkeri’s office.

Liam poked his head in the office, surprised to see Inkeri missing. He wondered if he’d gotten the timing wrong and yesterday had been her final day.

“Hello?” he asked tentatively, hearing a thump from the desk.

“Sorry, I really don’t have time for…” Inkeri paused as she crawled out from under the desk, rubbing the top of her head. Her hand paused in mid air.

“An old friend?” Kubica finished, grinning at her. She blinked a few times, feeling cornered. Robert hadn’t reached out again after his unanswered text and she wasn’t prepared to be face to face with him.

“Oh, you know each other?” Robert looked a little hurt, wondering why Inkeri hadn’t mentioned him at all. “Rob’s signed on to have his own team this year. RK M-Sport World Rally Team,” Liam said proudly, not catching the awkward tension now in the office as Robert and Inkeri stared at each other.

“That’s great,” Inkeri replied, hoping her grin looked authentic. She was so happy for Robert, but she wasn’t sure how to show it.

“It’s too bad Inkeri is leaving us today. You two would probably make an excellent team.” Robert looked at Inkeri, feeling the same sense of ‘we  _ made _ an excellent team’. “Rob’s got an incredible grasp on racing and how to put a car together. He’s got some pretty interesting ideas about turbochargers and energy recovery.” 

“Oh?” Inkeri cocked her head, giving him a very knowing look as Kubica turned red. Secretly, she was flattered that he had listened so well when she prattled on about her work. 

“Just imagine your minds together,” Liam said, his voice surprisingly wistful. 

“Moving to a different rally team?” Robert asked, desperate for a chance to change the subject. The ink on his new contract wasn’t even dry yet, but he would walk out now if it meant he could follow Inkeri. 

“No, actually going back to Williams Engineering. They need additional help building the Jaguar C-X75 again. There’s also a rumour of another Porsche,” she added, wondering why she was telling him all of this. Liam looked suitably surprised as well, shocked to hear his quietest team member almost chatty.

“Frank must be excited. Those internships finally paid off,” Kubica said, noticing the photos on her desk. “I can’t believe you put this up,” he chuckled, picking up a snap of just them. Inkeri had convinced him to dress up as a very tall Cher to her tiny Sonny Bono for a fancy dress party. They both looked ridiculous but he couldn’t remember ever laughing more.

“Uh, maybe you guys should grab lunch,” Liam interjected, realizing they had both been quiet too long. He was very slowly picking up on the weirdness between them.

“Oh, I need to pack,” Inkeri replied, shaking her head.

“Nope, what’s our rule?” he argued, not missing the annoyed look on her face. Kubica tried to hide his smirk behind his hand. He could see Inkeri fighting not to snap at her boss as he pointed a finger at her. 

“I didn’t think that was an actual rule.” Inkeri relented, sensing Liam wouldn’t back down, and continued, “If I’m under the desk, I need a break.”

“Exactly, off you go,” Liam instructed, turning his pointing on Kubica. “Make sure she leaves this office.” Kubica held it together until Liam left, bursting into laughter.

“Don’t start,” Inkeri grumbled, snatching the photo away from him. Inside, though, she was jumping for joy. Robert’s laughter was the best thing she had heard in years.

“What happened to the door sign Frank made you?” Inkeri slowly grinned, slipping her shoes on as she walked over to show him where it had been hidden. Her foot was still asleep from her awkward sitting position, and she tripped over one of the boxes she had just finished packing, sending papers flying everywhere. Robert instinctively reached out, catching her arms. Inkeri steadied herself, genuinely unable to think about anything other than the warmth of his hands where they rested on her skin.

“The sign…” she began, shaking her head and stepping away from him. Robert could tell that she was flustered, feeling a little proud that his touch still affected her. “It’s just on the back of the door.” She pushed her office door partially closed, pointing to the hanging sign. ‘If I’m under the desk, run.’ Things felt claustrophobic again, the sensation of Robert being so close almost overwhelming her.

Inkeri still couldn’t decide whether she wanted to yell at him or throw herself into his arms. She had spent a long time being angry, but part of her had always known he hadn’t meant to hurt her. He had just been lost.

“Are you hungry?” she asked lamely, needing a reason to escape the room. Robert shook his head. “Me either,” she murmured, her stomach in too many knots to eat.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested, just wanting a little time alone with her. “I have a few things I want to say but…”

“C’mon.” Inkeri understood exactly what he meant. Standing still put too much pressure on everything.

Robert followed Inkeri through the crowded department, waving at a few people who recognized him. He went over his speech at least twice more in his head before they were finally outside, away from prying co-workers.

“I need to tell you how sorry I am, Inks,” he began abruptly, taking Inkeri’s hand to preempt the interruption she would definitely have. “Please hear me out.” She squeezed his hand in response but kept her eyes forward, afraid she might cry if she looked at him. “I have never regretted anything more than telling you to leave. You were trying so hard to help me and I just couldn’t see why I was worth it. When I got that call, I watched everything disappear. I had a cane instead of a trophy. You were helping me cut up my food instead of kissing me after I had won a race. Our little apartment in Italy became a handicap accessible house in Oxford.” Robert paused, taking a deep breath. “I couldn’t separate you from the life I thought I needed to feel happy, the life I promised you. I didn’t want to see you take more time away from school, so I pushed you away.”

“That should have been my choice,” Inkeri replied quietly, her voice unsteady. She slowed down and turned Robert to face her, needing to see his eyes.

“It should have been your choice,” he agreed, nodding firmly. “I’m so sorry I tried to be in charge. You were always better at big decisions.” Inkeri grinned through the tears forming in her eyes. 

“If you ever toss my stuff into the hall again, I will castrate you with my bare hands.” Robert looked slightly terrified but nodded, knowing he had crossed a line.

“Maybe when you’re done for the day, we could get dinner?” Robert suggested, feeling more confident. He had missed Inkeri and maybe this was his chance to get her back. After three years, perhaps his luck was changing again.

“I could be persuaded,” she smiled, turning to face the building entrance. “I’ll head back and get all my packing done.”

“Answer my text this time!” he joked, cupping his hands around his mouth to shout after her. Inkeri held up her middle finger as she walked away.

A few hours later, the final box was organized and ready to move out. Inkeri looked around the empty office, wondering how she could feel so comfortable here when two years ago she had felt like an outcast.

Co-workers who had previously looked at her with apprehension now reached out to her with all sorts of questions. Somewhere along the line, she had stopped being the twenty-something girl they didn’t trust, and become someone they respected.

“Headed out?” Nic asked, reaching towards the box she was holding.

“Yea,” she nodded, handing it to him with a small smile of gratitude. This last box contained her books and research she was allowed to keep, making it rather heavy for its small size. 

“Going to meet up with our new driver?” he questioned, wiggling his eyebrows. Inkeri didn’t answer right away but her blush gave it away. “Good, I’d rather have you hanging around than his current girlfriend.”

“Not so nice?” Inkeri tried to seem vaguely interested, not desperate to know who she was. It had never occurred to her that Kubica had moved on. Now, she felt rather stupid for assuming he had been waiting, or that tonight was more than just friends catching up.

“Haven’t met her, but I know you’re easy to get along with,” he laughed, depositing the box in the back of her car. “Don’t be a stranger, Inkeri.” She smiled and shook his hand.

“Good luck this season.” Nic thanked her and headed back to the building. As soon as he was gone, Inkeri climbed into her car, doing the one thing she had hoped to never sink to. She googled Kubica.

There were only a few grainy photos, but it was enough to show that he had indeed moved on. The girl didn’t resemble Inkeri, and she wondered if it was intentional. Her heart plummeted as she read a gossip article about Robert and his new love interest. She was a top Polish model and they had been spotted out a few times over the past couple of months.

Inkeri’s phone vibrated. -Almost done packing?- She heaved a sigh and mentally berated herself, typing out the reply despite her internal lecture. -Got the last done, but something came up at work. Raincheck?-

“I’m an asshole,” she muttered to herself, wincing when the reply came back. -Of course. Any time, Inks, I’ll be there.- “Inkeri, you fucking coward,” she snarled, smashing her fist into the door panel.

  
  



	21. 13 March 2016 - 12hr Spa GT

Inkeri grinned as she caught sight of the official Kubica fan club. These were a die-hard bunch, sitting out in the elements all day just to watch their beloved driver complete endless laps on the quest to finish an endurance race. This was where she should have been all along. 

“Could I sit with you?” she asked an older gentleman, motioning to the open space on the bleachers next to him. He nodded, a friendly smile on his face as he offered her a sign to hold up. “That’s a bit on the nose,” she commented to herself, reading the ‘Robert, we wait’ written in bold, white letters over a red background. 

The group chatted amongst themselves, trying to include Inkeri even though her Polish was rusty on top of being just plain bad. She tried her best to follow along, nodding as she heard mentions of BMW and Renault. 

Robert’s appearance on track a few minutes later silenced them. Initially, Inkeri was glad for the reprieve until all of the emotions of seeing Kubica in his first circuit race since the accident hit her. Watching him lap the familiar circuit in a GT car was the greatest moment of the last five years of her life. She hadn’t even realised she was crying until the man next to her patted her back, offering an empathetic smile. 

As his stint, and the race, came to a close, Kubica drove by slowly, his dedicated group cheering loudly. Inkeri joined in, feeling energized despite the late hour. 

“Come to the paddock?” Inkeri shook her head, declining his offer. She was just here to observe, not get involved. 

The small crowd began filtering out of the bleachers. Inkeri looked down at the sign still tightly clutched in her hands. “We wait,” she whispered, thinking through the words. “Life’s short, so why am I waiting?” The words sounded even more pointless out loud. Waiting might as well be wasting time. 

Inkeri leapt up from her seat, jogging after the fan club. She caught up with them midway to the pits and decided to hang at the back, her nerves kicking in as they approached the area where a few drivers were signing autographs or giving interviews. 

Time slowed down as Inkeri caught sight of Robert. He smiled and shook hands with each member of his club, taking an extra moment with the eldest member. Their voices were muffled as Inkeri catalogued every detail she could, the tick up of the left side of his mouth, the tiniest evidence of crow’s feet around his dark eyes. 

It took a moment, but she suddenly became aware of the group shifting to make an opening between Robert and her. The man speaking to him was now pointing at Inkeri and smiling in an almost affectionate manner. She hadn’t heard what was being said, but none of that mattered. They were here, back in the paddock after so many years away. Despite all of the time apart, this moment felt like home. 

Inkeri realised how long she had been standing there gaping when a hand gently shoved her forwards. A laughed, “Starstruck,” reaching her ears. Out of reflex, her arms threw themselves around Kubica’s neck, holding onto him as he stumbled back a half-step, unprepared for her to launch into him. Robert’s arms wrapped around her waist, squeezing her tightly to his chest. 

They stood silently like this, clinging to each other until some of the group members cheered and whistled, not realising they already knew each other. Robert closed his eyes for a moment, resting his chin on top of her head. 

“Hi,” she whispered lamely, lost for actual words. She swallowed thickly, a lump already in her throat. 

“Hello, kochanie,” he murmured, stepping back to get a good look at her. Inkeri’s eyes dropped to the ground, embarrassed by the fact that she was crying again. Robert reached out, cupping her face to bring her eyes back to his. “Why are you crying?” he asked, smiling as he softly ran his thumbs under her eyes. 

“Apparently it just happens a lot now,” she huffed, grinning as she wiped the rest of her tears away quickly. “They replay your accident, tears. I watch you win a rally, tears. You kick ass in touring cars, tears.” Robert laughed and pulled her into another hug. 

“It is so good to see you.” 

“I miss you,” Inkeri admitted, refusing to let go of him. Robert understood what she was feeling so he made sure to link his fingers with hers, keeping them connected despite needing to spend a little more time with his fan club. No one asked any questions, but their eyes definitely lingered on Inkeri a little more, wondering just what little stray they had brought into the paddock. 

Robert kept a tight grip on Inkeri’s hand even after the group dispersed, leading her through the paddock after he had signed a final few autographs. She followed after him, waving at the few familiar faces she saw. 

“I need to go over some data with the team, but I really want to see you after,” Robert explained, pausing at the makeshift hospitality area outside of the Mercedes garage. 

“I’ll be here.” Robert watched her for a moment, obviously fighting with himself over something. “I promise, I will still be here,” she reassured, perfectly reading the question he so wanted to ask. 

An hour later, Robert still hadn’t reappeared. Inkeri knew he was probably deep in a discussion about car performance. She grinned to herself, imagining his overly serious face as he tried to explain the feeling in the car to someone who hadn’t experienced it. 

“I’ve never seen Kubica so ready to get out of a meeting.” Inkeri glanced over her shoulder where two engineers had just exited the team building. “Cyril is in one of those chatty moods, though.” 

* _ I’m cashing in my rain check tonight. So stop terrifying mechanics! _ * Inkeri fired off a quick text to Kubica, hoping he remembered their failed attempt at a dinner three years ago. 

“I’m going to say something cheesy, so prepare yourself,” Kubica said, appearing behind Inkeri fifteen minutes later. She turned to face him, wondering what he had to say. “Driving the car is the second best feeling today.” 

“I am pretty great,” Inkeri shrugged, loving the way Robert rolled his eyes at her comment. “But, same. Well, not the driving. Watching you drive, you get it.” He smiled as she babbled on, the sight interrupting her runaway thoughts. “I will never get tired of that smile.” Inkeri clapped a hand over her mouth, slightly wishing she hadn’t blurted that. 

“It’s hard not to smile when you’re around,” he said matter-of-factly, his version of flirting every bit as serious as it used to be. 

“Robert,” Inkeri began, suddenly needing to know something. “Do you still have the same girlfriend?”

“What?” He looked a little confused, taking the seat next to her. 

“One of the guys at M-Sport mentioned something about her not being very… supportive?” Inkeri fumbled, unsure of how to describe the other woman she had never met. 

“Is that why you cancelled? Am I Robert because you think I’m in a relationship with someone else?” he asked, understanding the small changes in Inkeri’s behaviour. 

“I mean, you could have moved on. We’ve been separated for years,” Inkeri shrugged, wondering what the expression on his face meant. 

“Could you?” he questioned, his smile slipping a little when Inkeri shook her head. “I thought about it, but no one will ever be you. So next time, just ask instead of making me wait three years.” 

“That’s fair,” she murmured softly, looking away from him. Cancelling their plans had been cowardly and she regretted it even more now as she saw the frustration on his face. 

“It’s really strange being back here, isn’t it?” Robert nodded his agreement, looking around at the deserted track. 

“I’m sorry about earlier. It took a long time for me to be ready to talk to anyone from my past,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think about you not being ready, either. You know, the only lie I’ve ever told you was that I am a patient man.” 

“It wasn’t completely false,” she replied, smiling up at him. “I seem to remember this time you spent three days trying to teach me how to do a proper handbrake turn.” 

“Oh my god,” he groaned, covering his eyes. “You could do everything else so fast. I did not know what I was getting into.” 

“I’m very selectively talented,” she agreed, holding her hands up. Inkeri looked around at the empty stands, suddenly remembering the last time she had been here. 

Robert had noticed her silence, voicing what she was thinking. “I took my final F1 podium here.”

“A single qualifying lap and you managed third.”

“Then, I fucked up my pit stop in the race.” His voice had gotten distant again, partially slipping into his memories. 

“Oh, believe me, I remember. You moaned about that for weeks after the race.” Inkeri reached out, gently pulling him back to face her. “I think it’s been enough years that you should just focus on the fact that you got the Renault on the podium. That was all you, Kubi,” she murmured, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around her waist. 

“Those were the good days.” 

“ _ These _ are the good days,” Inkeri corrected. 

“Once I get back to F1, I’ll agree with you.” 

“Why?” she asked, genuinely curious about his reasons. Robert looked a little surprised by her question. 

“To show that I’m still the same driver,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“But you aren’t the same driver.” Robert looked hurt. “You’re probably better,” she added. “Fuck Formula 1. You have a rally championship now and podiums in all other sorts of racing. Who cares about those self-centered assholes?” 

“I care,” Robert said quietly, staring at her earnestly. “I don’t want to prove it to anyone but myself. I need to know if I can do it. I don’t want to fail any more.” 

“Kubi,” she began, unsure how to handle it. His words broke her heart. To her, he had never failed.

“Do you remember what you told me when I gave up?”

“I will never stop believing in you,” Inkeri sighed, knowing she still believed in him as much now as she did back then. “I guess we’re going back to F1.” Robert smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. 

“You will still be the hottest girlfriend in the paddock,” he winked, holding on tightly when Inkeri groaned and jokingly tried to push him away. “Someone sent me this poll once, Hottest F1 Drivers. Would you believe, I got one whole vote?” Kubica pretended to puff his chest out, looking pleased with his single vote status. 

“Was that for a magazine?” Inkeri asked, suspecting she already knew the answer. 

“No, it was a social media thing. I don’t remember the name of it.” Inkeri giggled, her cheeks tinged pink. 

“That was me,” she admitted quietly, scrunching her nose. 

“What?” 

“I was your vote,” she laughed, unable to contain herself as she thought about the strange coincidence of Kubica actually seeing that and her being the only vote for him. 

“And this whole time, I thought two people found me attractive,” he pouted, shaking his head. After just a moment, a grin lit up his face again. “I think I’m ok with it being you pining for me, though.” 

“I was not pining.” 

“You were dreaming of me while I was gone,” he nearly sing-songed, twirling her around. 

“Dreaming of kicking you in the shin, maybe,” she retorted, stumbling as she tried to stop twirling instead of following his movements. He caught her easily, one arm wrapped around her waist.

“Kochanie,” Kubica said softly, pulling her closer once more. His other hand reached up to cup her cheek, tilting her head so she was looking at him. “I love you.” Inkeri wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling another swell of emotion in her chest. 

“I love you, too,” she huffed, hiding her face against his shoulder. Kubica’s hand slid over her jaw, coming to rest with his fingers tangled in the back of her hair. “I really missed you.” Robert chuckled under his breath, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. 

“I’m very sure I missed you more.” Inkeri lifted her head to look at him. Kubica paused, expecting a snappy retort. 

“Life’s short and I want you to move back in.” He looked at her, surprised at her sudden request. “I’m tired of waiting, wasting time,” she shrugged. “Kubi, come home.” Kubica’s hand tightened slightly, his eyes searching hers. He had to be sure she was certain about this. 

“Jutro?” Inkeri shook her head, a grin spreading across her face. 

“Dzisiejszej nocy. I always liked tonight better than tomorrow.” Robert sucked in a breath as Inkeri pulled his hand away, pressing a kiss to his palm. The feeling of her lips on his damaged skin was as foreign as it was incredible. “Can you feel that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Kubica nodded, watching her closely as she pressed another kiss further up his arm. 

“It’s not fair to do this to me in public,” he whined, watching her smile turn a bit wicked. 

“Do you want to go somewhere private?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows. Kubica nodded, his eyes very round as he struggled not to just beg. “Now who’s pining?” Inkeri continued, laughing when he pulled his arm out of her grasp, instead hooking it around her neck to pull her under his arm. 

“I lied, I didn’t miss you,” he grumbled, jumping when Inkeri shoved her hand into his pocket. “Hey, what are you… wait!” he shouted, chasing after her as she slipped out of his grasp. Inkeri darted away, waving his car keys at him over her shoulder.

“Wow,” Inkeri breathed, drawing out the word as she walked into Robert’s hotel room. “This brings back memories. Everything looks the same,” she grinned, looking out at the view of the city. She wondered if it was just a coincidence that he was staying in the same hotel. “Do you remember the first time we were here?” She glanced over her shoulder when he didn’t respond, the faint light from the window enough to illuminate Robert’s contrite expression. Inkeri’s chest constricted as he dropped his jacket on the floor, his shirt following it. 

“Not everything is the same,” he said softly, looking down at his arm. “Look at me, Inkeri, really look because this is your future.”

“You’ve always been my future.” Robert shook his head. 

“Don’t just placate me. This,” he emphasized, holding up his right hand, “is not what you fell in love with. I can’t even write, for fuck’s sake.” Inkeri could feel his anguish as he looked repulsed by his own appendage. 

“Stop.” She stepped forward, reaching for his hand with both of hers. “You probably can’t write because you don’t practice. We both know you can still drive, and…” she paused, waiting to see if he would slot his fingers between hers. Inkeri’s eyes held his as Robert finally grasped her hand. “You can still do the most important thing.” He sighed, an annoyed expression spreading across his face. Inkeri stared him down as he slowly pulled his hand away. 

“You’re not listening.”

“No,” she said flatly, doing her best to physically crowd him backwards, her small stature making it difficult. “You’re not talking to me again.” Kubica’s face fixed back into his usual mask as he reached for his shirt. Inkeri caught it, pulling it away from him. “Tell me what you really mean. Please, Kubi,” she whispered, stepping away from him. 

Kubica remained silent, but sat down on the bed. It wasn’t necessarily a big step, but at least he wasn’t pulling away. He didn’t seem to be trying to keep her out. 

“Is it scars you want to compare? I have new ones,” Inkeri said, raising the hem of her shirt. Robert’s fingers traced over the faint scar on her abdomen before pulling the t-shirt back down. 

“It’s a lot of things,” he finally admitted, his posture relaxing slightly as she sat next to him. “After the accident, all I could see was the bad stuff. You had to help me get dressed, eat, bathe myself. You gave and gave, and I had nothing to give back. I couldn’t hold you. I couldn’t…” Robert paused, roughly running a hand over his face. “I couldn’t get out of bed to comfort you when you snuck into the closet to cry after I had gone to sleep. I didn’t even want to go to that race, and then… It was all my fault, Inkeri.” 

“None of it was your fault,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he leaned into her. Robert buried his face against her neck, letting all of the feelings come back. 

“Every time you had to help me into the bath I could see it in your eyes. All the physical therapy exercises you pushed me through, it was still there. You wanted to be free of all of the shit I was putting you through.” Inkeri clung on a little tighter, realising he was right in some ways. “You hid because I couldn’t…” 

“That’s not why. I hid because I didn’t want you to think it was your fault,” Inkeri interrupted, shifting so she could see his face. “I was never mad at you because of the accident. I was mad because you stopped trying. You were so determined to do it all on your own and I felt like you resented me trying to help. I thought we were going to work through it together. You’ve never shut me out like that and it hurt. I was selfish. I expected you to want my hand to hold.” 

“I thought you would leave, and I just wanted it over with,” he said sadly, hanging his head. 

“I’m sorry, Kubi. I knew you were struggling, but I never saw those things like you did. I should have tried-”

“I should have told you,” he admitted. His inability to communicate had cost them so much. 

“You were as stunning to me then as you were when we first met.” Robert scoffed, clearly not believing her. “Honestly, all I saw was the same boy with the fiercest determination I’ve ever encountered.” 

“And what do you see now?” he asked, his serious expression belying the lightness of his tone. Robert was truly worried about her opinion. “What little hair remains is greying. I have a shrunken arm. To top it off, I’m old.” Plenty of smart remarks came to Inkeri’s mind, but she shoved them away, knowing he needed to hear the plain truth. 

“You’re right. The arrogant, rosy-cheeked boy is gone, replaced by a humble, yet confident, man. I loved you when you were all soft, pale skin and I still love you with sharp angles and some real hair on your chest,” Inkeri replied. “You were cute back then, but now, now you’re downright sexy,” she grinned, tracing a finger along his jawline for emphasis. Robert’s cheeks went red but he didn’t look away. 

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, reaching up to grab her hand. He pressed a kiss against her palm. “I promise I will never shut you out again.” Inkeri nodded, lost for further words. 

Wordlessly, she got up, following Kubica to the sink. They brushed their teeth, sharing smiles as their eyes met in the mirror. Inkeri peeled off her jeans and t-shirt, leaving them in a pile with Robert’s clothes next to the bed. Robert held his arms open, waiting for her to settle in next to him. 

“It’s my turn to be the big spoon tonight,” she protested, crawling under the covers. 

“Our first fight already?” he asked, grinning softly when Inkeri glared at him. 

“I need at least twelve hours of complete clinginess to comprehend that you’re really here.” Robert chuckled as he complied, nestling his head against her shoulder. 

“Check-out is at 11 but we can arrange some extra hours when we get home. Together,” he said firmly. Inkeri’s arms tightened around him for a moment. 

“I almost lost you,” she whispered, biting her lip as it wobbled. 

“I know, kochanie,” he murmured, raising up on his elbow to kiss her. “I’m here. I promise.” 

“We say it a lot, but you don’t need to illustrate how short life can be,” she chided, pouting. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, pressing her hand against his chest. “Every beat belongs to you. Forever.” Inkeri giggled though her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. 

“What happened to the warning before you say something really cheesy?” 

“Pierogies are cheesy,” he shrugged, his stoic expression cracking as Inkeri’s giggles got louder. 

“Do you still have a Pavlovian response to that?” she asked, unable to stifle her laughter as he groaned. 

“If you bring it up, I do,” he groused, shifting so he wasn’t pressed against her side. “I was trying to have a moment.” 

“How can I ever apologize to my little pierogi?” Inkeri asked, trying to sound innocent as she sat up to look at him. “Dearest, darling, sweetheart…” Inkeri squealed in surprise as Robert grabbed her, pressing her into the mattress beneath him. 

“ _ You’re _ going to be the death of me. Definitely not a rally.” 

“Better way to go, though, right?” she asked breathlessly, her skin on fire everywhere his bare skin was against hers. Robert lowered himself enough to brush his nose against hers. Inkeri felt the same electricity shooting through her as their first date. 

“Much better,” he chuckled softly, this time, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth. 

  
  



	22. 19 September 2016 - Henwil, England

Robert and Inkeri had stayed locked away in their ‘new’ apartment until nearly September. They both needed the time to reconnect and relearn how to live with someone else. The time apart had been very different for each of them. 

Robert rolled over, still shocked after six months that Inkeri was really here. Unlike the past, she was still sound asleep. It was a very interesting shift, and he was grateful for it. Her newfound ability to sleep past six a.m. allowed him the time to have coffee waiting for her. 

Inkeri’s hand shot out, catching his wrist as he tried to carefully slip out of bed. She pulled his arm back around her, unable to let him go just yet. 

“I know you’re sneaking off to spoil me with coffee again, but I… Stay for a little longer?” she asked, turning to face him. Kubica nodded, laying back and pulling her half onto his chest. 

It wasn’t the first time one of them had held on those extra few moments. For the first minutes after Inkeri woke, things didn’t feel any different. She was still alone, the apartment totally silent. But, after a bit of very focused listening, she could hear someone else moving around. 

She could hear Kubica humming as he puttered around the small kitchen, making coffee or toast. Inkeri would slowly kick her feet over the side of the bed, most of her still terrified that it was all just a ghost in her mind. As she opened the door, the smell of coffee would waft down the hall, tempting her out of the room and into the kitchen. 

Robert would look up, startled to see her standing in the doorway. She knew he felt the same thing she did, experienced that same sensation of relief. After the first two mornings, he learned to put the hot cup down because Inkeri was going to cross the kitchen in an instant, nearly tackling him as she threw her arms around his neck. 

The only part of the day that rivaled it, was the final few moments before they fell asleep. They had a very similar routine except in reverse. 

Kubica would slowly poke his head around the doorframe, afraid she wouldn’t actually be there. Despite her barely living in his house in Italy, she was still everywhere. Unlike those other nights, when he wandered into the bedroom, Inkeri was really there, not just the faint scent of her shampoo on his pillow. 

Inkeri would look up from her book, a giant smile on her face as her eyes met his. She would put her book down, learning to after a few ripped pages those first few nights, and Robert would nearly jump into the bed. His arm would wrap around her waist and pull her across the mattress until she was pressed tightly against his chest. 

“Kochanie,” he murmured, breaking into her thoughts. Inkeri tilted her head back to look at him, his expression serious. “Will you come to Monte Carlo with me?” 

“I…” she trailed off, pausing to take a deep breath. “Yes.” Her voice was small but she nodded, trying to smile at him. Inkeri absolutely wanted to go, but a rally race seemed very scary now. She had watched him on TV plenty of times, but that was before they had found their way back. She was definitely going to support him, but it would be nerve wracking. 

“Really?” Kubica asked, looking very happy. 

“Of course,” she assured, nodding more firmly. “I want to watch you race. You know it’s my weakness,” she grinned, forcing herself to relax. Hadn’t she already learned to enjoy the time she had? 

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, pulling her hand up to press a kiss against the back of it. He studied the scar on her wrist, brushing his lips against it. “Didn’t you break your right arm when we went karting?” 

“Yea, I broke my left one last year trying to start one of the cars. The crank got away from me,” she explained, watching his face fall. “Kubi?” He pressed another kiss against the still-red scar. 

“I hate that I wasn’t there to take care of you. I don’t like that someone else was there when I should have been,” he complained, tensing. Inkeri reached up to poke at the deep line between his eyes. 

“I can occasionally take care of myself,” she corrected, resting her chin on his chest, her neck tired from the strange angle. 

“That’s worse! You were alone,” Kubica grumbled, sliding away from her.

“Kubica,” Inkeri began, shuffled to the side as he climbed out of bed. 

“I  _ should _ have fucking been there,” he fumed, tugging on a shirt and walking out of the room. 

“And you’re going to do what about it now, exactly?” she asked, following him down the hall. “You can’t change it, Robert.” He stopped so quickly she nearly ran into the back of him, stumbling back a step. 

Inkeri was stunned to see tears in his eyes as he spun to face her. She didn’t entirely understand what had just shifted again. 

“I know I can’t change it. It makes me angry, and I don’t know how to deal with that.” Inkeri tilted her head, wondering how best to approach the situation. She was too busy thinking to notice Kubica was holding his hand out. “Please don’t make a joke, but I really want your hand to hold this time. I can’t do this on my own.” 

“Oh,” she said, feeling her eyes well up as she looked at his outstretched hand. Inkeri reached for his right hand, his contorted fingers wrapping around hers. Despite the changes to its shape, its grip, it still felt like Kubica to her. He hesitated a moment, waiting to see if Inkeri cringed. Instead, she pulled him forwards, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“Please don’t call me that,” he whispered, looping his arms around her shoulders. 

“What?” she asked, confused. 

“Robert. You never called me that before. It wasn’t until you thought I was with someone else. It feels… distant,” he admitted, resting his chin on the top of her head. Inkeri laughed, burying her face in his t-shirt. 

“I shall never use your first name again,” she giggled, feeling his chest rumble with his own laughter. 

“Right, how dare you use my given name. That’s for friends and Alonso.” 

“Oh, be nice to Nano. He said you were very rude when he came by to check on you. I felt bad after I goaded him into it,” she chided, trying unsuccessfully to pinch him. “You’re too fit now. There’s nothing to grab.” 

“I have an idea of what you can grab,” he suggested, the smirk evident in his voice. The mischief in his eyes faded, replaced by a thoughtful look. “Why did you call him, anyway?” 

“I…” she paused, her eyes firmly trained on the ground. “I couldn’t leave you alone,” she murmured. “I wasn’t sure if…” 

“Did you think I was going to kill myself?” he asked, shocked and more than a little hurt. 

“No, but I didn’t think my dad was going to either,” she admitted. Kubica’s expression softened immediately. 

“Kochanie,” he whispered, cupping her face. “I would never leave you like that,” he continued softly, pressing his forehead against hers. She swallowed, nodding her understanding. 

“I had to know someone was with you.” 

“I know,” he murmured, stepping back to look at her. “Enough sadness, yes?” Inkeri grinned a little, quickly brushing away the tears that had been building. 

“Yes. Remind me again why I missed you so much,” she suggested squealing when he easily picked her up. He deposited her on the kitchen counter, pushing her knees open to stand between them. 

Inkeri ran her hand over the body of his Ford Fiesta, marvelling at her flared blue fenders. She’d seen it on the screen, but in person, it felt a little like meeting a celebrity. 

“How am I supposed to focus now?” Kubica asked, startling her. Inkeri pulled her hand back from the car, using it to swat at him as he grabbed her hips, pushing her back against the car. 

“Down boy, you’ve got a rally to do,” she chuckled, not missing the content expression that flickered across his face. 

“Fine,” he huffed, pouting at her. Inkeri rolled her eyes at his jutted lip, pulling him in for a kiss that was borderline inappropriate for the open air tent they were standing in. 

“No, now I’ve got to stop myself,” she said, pushing him back a pace. “I’m as bad as you,” she muttered, shaking her head. 

“The race suit really works for you still, doesn’t it,” he grinned, looking entirely too proud. 

“Go, rally,” she instructed, pointing her finger at him. “I will deal with my feelings about that suit and your driving later.” Robert raised his eyebrows, grinning at her as she walked away, wanting to find a better spot to see at least some of the driving. 

Her former boss, Liam, spotted her walking across the paddock, calling her name as he fell into step with her. 

“I am shocked to see you here,” he said, eschewing a greeting. 

“I used to work for your rally team,” she reminded. 

“And you didn’t come to a single rally despite everyone inviting you along multiple times.” Inkeri shrugged, keeping the answer to herself. “I see you still don’t know Kubica that well,” he grinned, bumping her shoulder. “Can I take credit for introducing you?” 

“Nope,” Inkeri replied shortly, shaking her head. “2007.” 

“Ah, well, anytime he feels like working for a team again, you still have my contact information.” 

“I’ll let him know,” she agreed, looking towards a small crowd under a stand of trees. “I’m off to watch. Good to see you.” Inkeri walked off before Liam could reply, preoccupied with every other sensation of being back at a rally. 

Inkeri tightened her fingers around Robert’s necklace, the weight of it comforting. It had been very strange watching him race without its presence in her palm. 

The blue and red Fiesta screamed towards them, the engine being held at a high rev as it came down the straight. Kubica braked hard, sending a spray of gravel out behind the car. He slid the tail end around, the front staying neatly pinned as he maneuvered through the hairpin. 

Inkeri cheered along with the others as he charged out of the turn, tossing gravel and mud onto some of the onlookers. Despite the few flecks of mud on her face, Inkeri smiled. They were back in racing. 


	23. 1 December 2017 - Las Vegas

Fernando shuffled out of the way quickly, nearly bowled over by a group of women wearing feather boas and tiaras. They giggled and waved as they teetered down the street, carrying giant margaritas. Linda wrapped an arm around his shoulders and waved back.

“Hey, where’s my little show of jealousy?” Robert pouted, waving a hand at Inkeri. She was distracted, watching a street performer. Las Vegas was a busy town, and they were all feeling a little overwhelmed at the sheer mass of it. Bright, neon lights glittered everywhere. Every single place they walked past was thrumming with loud music, patrons pouring out of the overcrowded spaces.

Fernando had invited them for a weekend away and Robert was hesitant to say no despite his reservations about the noisy city. It wasn’t his scene, but he wanted to rebuild his friendship. So, he and Inkeri had tagged along to the ‘Devil’s Paradise’, as Fernando insisted on calling it.

“Oh right,” she mumbled, catching his movement out of the corner of her eye. “This one is mine!” she declared loudly, taking her scarf off and tossing it around Robert’s neck. She pulled him closer, the height difference forcing him to stoop. With him closer to her level, Inkeri planted a noisy smacking-kiss on his cheek, leaving a large red imprint.

“I asked for that,” he grumbled, not bothering to wipe away her lipstick. Fernando grinned at them before glancing up at Linda. Their height difference was much smaller but in the opposite direction. “Come here, you,” Robert nearly growled, pulling Inkeri’s wandering focus back to him. He dipped her back, feeling very pleased with the way she stared up at him. It was obvious he was the only thing on her mind now. Instead of kissing her, he blew a very loud raspberry against the side of her neck.

“Ooh, you bastard,” she tried to complain, giggling as she attempted to squirm out of his grasp. Kubica slowly let her back up, keeping his arms tightly around her as she leaned back against him. He looked over her shoulder to where Fernando was openly gaping at them, briefly resting his chin on Inkeri.

“What?”

“You’re smiling in public. You,” he continued, pointing at Robert. “You are laughing. I’ve never seen you this relaxed. What have you done with my grumpy friend?” Alonso asked, moving his pointing finger to Inkeri. She shrugged, thoroughly unapologetic. Linda smiled and gently pushed his arm down, turning him away from them.

“Stop staring. Let your friend have fun,” she chided, linking her arm with Alonso’s and pulling him down the street. She waved back at Inkeri and Robert, motioning for them to follow along.

They stopped into a local favourite restaurant for a late dinner. Inkeri and Linda found that they had a lot more in common than originally anticipated and fell into their own conversation. Alonso didn’t miss the way Robert reached for Inkeri’s hand any time he looked a little uncomfortable. Inkeri didn’t even have to pause what she was doing, like she had a special sense just for him. She would squeeze his hand or gently bump his knee whenever he went a bit tense.

After dinner, they wandered into a club, but within the first few songs, Linda and Fernando’s dancing dissolved into something inappropriate even by Vegas standards. They quickly decided to retreat to the hotel for the night, pausing just long enough to say their goodbyes before disappearing down the strip.

“Were we that gross?” Inkeri asked, scrunching up her nose as she watched the couple stumbling away, caught up in their kisses.

“Kochanie, we’re still that gross,” Robert replied, giving her a wink before pulling her into a knee-weakening kiss. Inkeri closed her eyes as his teeth grazed the skin of her neck, completely blocking out the world around them. A loud whistle soon interrupted them, Robert stepping back a bit but still keeping his hand firmly around her hip.

“You will never stop amazing me,” she grinned, skipping a few strides next to him as they began the walk back to their hotel. On the way, they passed a tiny chapel that boasted fifteen minute weddings and an Elvis impersonator. Inkeri paused, a sense of importance stopping her feet as she looked at the neon rings in the window.

Robert noticed her gaze, a smile breaking out on his face. This was a strange twist of fate. He felt around in his pocket, easily finding what he was on the hunt for.

“Kubi,” she started, not turning to look at him for a moment. “Marry me,” she blurted, finally swiveling to face him. Kubica was standing just behind her, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No, you marry me,” he replied, holding out a silver band. The small diamonds set into the band glittered in the low light.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. “You had a plan?”

“I’ve had this ring since 2011 and it is beyond time for it to be yours. Inkeri, I had this huge plan and then it never happened. I know this isn’t perfect, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We don’t have to get married here or now, but will you…” Inkeri jumped into his arms, nearly knocking him down.

“Yes! I’ll marry you. Right now!” she cheered, grabbing his hands and pulling him after her into the chapel.

“Right now?” he echoed, not hesitating at all despite his surprise.

“Life is short, and I am so ready to start our forever. You still owe me 50 years, remember?” she grinned, laughter bubbling over as Kubica grabbed her, carrying her down the aisle towards Elvis and his assistant.

They signed the register book and began filling out forms, casting glances at each other over their scribbled signatures. Inkeri’s cheeks were beginning to hurt from the constant smile. It wasn’t a fairy tale wedding, but it was real. And, as they stood in front of a heavyset man in a spangly white jumpsuit, adding as many Elvis intonations as possible into the vows, it was perfect.

“So what did you two get up to last night?” Linda asked over breakfast, a very obvious hickey occasionally visible under her collar. Inkeri blushed and shrugged, glancing over at Kubica. His cheeks were equally pink and he wore a similarly satisfied smile on his face.

“We got married,” he said casually, popping another piece of fruit into his mouth. Fernando nodded, his slightly hungover brain taking a moment to catch up.

“Wait, you what?” Fernando asked, his voice obviously louder than intended as he and Linda both flinched.

“Got manacled together,” Inkeri added, ducking as Kubica threw a grape at her. Fernando noticed the glint of silver on his hand, grabbing it and pointing at the ring.

“You bastard! I’m in the same fucking city and you waited until I went to bed?!” he complained loudly, shaking Robert’s hand where he still held it at the wrist. “When Linda and I get married, you aren’t invited,” he pouted, pretending to fling Kubica’s hand away.

“When we get married?” Linda asked, her eyebrow raising as though Fernando hadn’t mentioned it before. Alonso looked flustered for a moment before turning his focus on Inkeri.

“Look what you’ve done!” he exclaimed, his entire face going red with exasperation.

“What I’ve done?” she asked, trying to stifle her laughter at the pained look on his face. Kubica bumped her knee with his under the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse us for a minute, Kubica has to call his parents and tell them before it gets out some other way.”

“You told me first?” Alonso asked, suddenly looking very smug.

“Of course,” Robert shrugged, patting him on the back as he stood up.

“I am important,” he mumbled, taking a long sip of coffee. Inkeri made a face at Kubica, trying to convey how cute hungover Fernando was. “Of course we are getting married. Why don’t you know that?” he muttered, sullenly picking his toast up. Linda laughed loudly, reaching across the table to steal the food from his hand.

“You’re shackled to me forever, remember?” Kubica grumbled, hooking his arm around Inkeri’s neck as she glanced back at the other happy couple.

“Ooh, possessive Kubi. I like that,” she grinned, trying to push him down the hallway faster. “Remind me, who do I belong to again?” she taunted, squeaking when he growled and picked her up, tossing her onto the bed in their room. 


	24. 11 February 2018 - Milton Keynes

“Why are you dressed?” Robert asked, walking in to find Inkeri already tying up her shoes. Not five minutes ago, he had tried to sneak out of bed and into the kitchen, hoping not to disturb her. 

“Because you need to go for a run every morning to start getting ready for a full season of racing,” she replied, grabbing a tissue to blow her nose into. After a few seconds she also started coughing, quickly covering her mouth as it turned into a full fit. 

“I already told you, you’re staying in bed today.” Robert knelt down, starting to pull her shoes off. Inkeri shook her foot in retaliation. 

“I’m fine. I promised I’d help you…” she paused, interrupted by yet another coughing fit. This time, Robert managed to remove both shoes and socks while Inkeri caught her breath. The kettle whistled loudly in the kitchen. 

Inkeri finally gave in, sitting back on the bed and closing her eyes for a moment. The smell of a cup of tea pulled her back from the microsleep she had been in. 

“Tea with a little whiskey and honey,” he said, sitting the cup down next to her. Kubica pressed a quick kiss on her forehead, subtly checking to see how hot her forehead was. “I’ll be back in about an hour and then we can have a nice lazy afternoon here.” 

“No, I promised…”

“Kochanie, I know you want to go. I’m asking you to stay here and get better. Please do that for me,” he urged, picking the tea up and pressing it into her hands. She scowled at him, knowing he was right. Plus, she wouldn’t want to risk getting him sick closer to the start of the season. 

Inkeri hummed as she took a small sip of tea. “And more of these?” she asked, closing her eyes as she savored the taste. 

“As many as you like,” Robert grinned, dropping one more quick kiss against her forehead before standing up. “Well, maybe without the whiskey,” he added as an afterthought, gathering up his phone and keys. 

“I’m not driving,” she shrugged, wiggling back into the pillows. Robert snorted and shook his head. He thought about saying something else, but her eyes were already closed, so he took the opportunity to sneak out before she protested more.

Inkeri woke to the sound of the shower running. Robert must have returned from his workout and snuck past her. She stretched and rolled out of bed, wandering into the bathroom. Kubica jumped slightly in surprise when he caught a glimpse of her through the glass walls of the shower enclosure. He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering if she was coming in. 

“I’m exhausted, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the view,” she smiled tiredly, leaning against the counter. The corner of Robert’s mouth tipped up and he made a show of washing his torso, running his hands slowly down his chest. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to help?” he winked, gesturing to the spot on his back he couldn’t reach. Inkeri looked like she very much wanted to say yes, but she sneezed loudly instead. 

“I would absolutely love to, but… I should probably shower though,” she conceded, sniffing at her shirt. It had been clean last night, but she had woken up sweating several times since. “When you’re done, I’ll hop in.” 

“No, come on. I can keep my hands to myself,” he reassured, smiling at her eye roll. Robert turned the water a bit warmer, increasing the amount of steam when he saw Inkeri stand up and start to shed her clothes. She left them in a rumpled pile in the middle of the floor and climbed into the shower. Inkeri rested her forehead against Robert’s chest, letting her muscles relax in the hot water.

“Try taking a few deep breaths, the steam will help,” he said softly, feeling her shoulders rise and fall as she followed his instructions. Robert let her stand still for a few more moments before gently pushing her back, wanting her to stand on her own again.

Inkeri understood what he wanted and nodded, relaying that he didn’t have to keep holding onto her. He relaxed his grip slowly, making sure she wouldn’t sway one way or the other. Satisfied she was balanced again, he reached for the shampoo. He squeezed a dime sized amount into his palms and gently started to work the soap through her hair.

Inkeri tilted her head back, closing her eyes at the sensation of his fingers kneading her scalp. He massaged the shampoo through her hair longer than strictly necessary, pleased at the serene look on her face. It had been too long since he had been the one in the caretaking position.

“Thank you,” Inkeri said quietly, briefly opening her eyes to look at Kubica. The simple act of helping her shower was much more intimate than anything else he had done for her.

“I will always take care of you, kochanie,” he replied, moving on to wash the rest of her. His hands were gentle as he worked the soap over her skin. He was even more careful as he helped her rinse all of the soap off, missing the look on her face in his focused state.

Robert shut the water off and stepped out first, handing a towel to Inkeri before drying off as quickly as he could. Inkeri dried off as she wandered back into the bedroom, suddenly very tired again. She wrapped the towel around herself and perched on the end of the bed, hoping it wouldn’t get too damp.

Kubica followed after her, tossing a second towel over her head and rubbing at her still dripping hair. Inkeri tiredly swatted at his hands, taking the towel and smoothing it over her hair instead.

“You’re going to turn my hair into a giant curly poof,” she chided, the smile on her face betraying her tone.

“Sorry, I forgot you still need to be glamourous all the time,” he retorted, poking his tongue out at her. “Does madame have specific clothing she wants?” Inkeri giggled at his expression and voice, shaking her head. Robert handed her a pair of underwear, leggings, and her favourite hoodie.  _ His _ hoodie that had been pilfered. Robert pulled on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, double checking that Inkeri didn’t need any help getting dressed. “I’ll make some more tea. Do you want to pick out a movie?”

“Sure, do you have a preference?” she asked, slipping some fuzzy socks on.

“Anything you want,” he replied, disappearing down the hall. Inkeri grinned to herself, debating what movie to torture him with today. Robert hadn’t seen a lot of films so she had been slowly educating him on some of her favourites. 

“I have the perfect classic,” Inkeri said, wandering into the room with a movie hidden under her arm. “Today, you finally experience… Birdcage!” she cheered, holding the movie out. Her enthusiasm was quickly dampened by a coughing fit, the case nearly slipping from her hands as she doubled over. 

“I’ll be excited for both of us. You just sit down and rest,” Robert grinned, gently ushering her over to the couch. He helped her get situated with a thick blanket and all of the pillows he could find in the apartment. 

“You’re such a secret smush. What would your friends say if they knew?” she giggled, making herself comfortable in the cocoon he had built. 

“I don’t think anyone has any doubts that I’m wrapped around your finger, kochanie,” he replied, double checking that her toes were covered before heading into the kitchen to make another cup of tea. 

Inkeri pressed play on the TV, watching through the previews as she waited for Robert to come back. She paused the movie as the opening titles began. She began to crane her neck towards the kitchen when Kubica reappeared, carrying two cups and a package of biscuits. 

“Your favourite still?” he asked, holding out the plastic sleeve of chocolate Hobnobs. Inkeri smiled widely and reached for them, clutching the packet to her chest. Despite the years, he still remembered her preferred indulgence when she wasn’t feeling well. 

“Thank you,” she said, waiting for him to get settled in next to her. Robert handed her a cup of tea before sitting back, pulling her legs over his lap. Inkeri took a long sip and let out a deep sigh. Kubica swiveled his head to look at her, curious about the unhappy noise. “You’ve ruined tea for me,” she shrugged, shaking her head. “Now we really can’t break up because I would be completely relegated to energy drinks,” she added, wrinkling her nose. 

“Wow, now I know you’ll really never let me get away. I control the caffeine,” he chuckled, turning his attention back to the screen. Inkeri studied his profile for a few more seconds before pressing play, settling back into the pillows. 

Robert’s eyes widened a little as Starina came into view, crying for her pirin tablets. This was one of Inkeri’s top three movies, and Kubica might be the first person she’d rather watch than the movie. 

Later, he was doubled over in laughter. Robin Williams was teaching Nathan Lane how to walk like a man, and it was going very poorly. Kubica didn’t laugh out loud at a lot of films, and Inkeri was feeling incredibly happy that he was enjoying this movie so much. 

“Agador Spartacus,” Robert imitated after the movie had ended. She could tell that was going to be a line he repeated often. “Pick another one,” he suggested, carefully shifting her feet onto the floor so he could stand up. 

“It’s going to be hard to pick something else you’re going to like that much,” Inkeri admitted, thinking through the other films in her small collection. “Why don’t  _ you _ look through and pick one?” 

“How about Harry Potter?” he asked after a few minutes of thought. “I liked the books,” he added, taking Inkeri’s empty cup into the kitchen. 

“You read the books? What happened to them being children’s books?” Inkeri asked, remembering Robert’s previous stance on her favourite boy wizard. Robert came back into the living room with the first movie in hand. 

“Well,” he began, pausing as he loaded it into the DVD player. As he turned back, Inkeri noticed his ears were red. “I read them all while I was laid up. You loved them, and I thought it would be something we could talk about when we…” he shrugged, not quite looking at Inkeri as he rearranged the blanket around them. 

Inkeri stared at him, mouth slightly agape as she realised he had thought about her just as much while they were apart. “You really are a smush,” she grinned, her smile only grew wider as Robert turned a deeper shade of red. Inkeri leaned against him, pulling his arms around her. “You missed me,” she murmured, snuggling into his chest. 

“Yea, yea,” Robert grumbled, pressing a kiss against the side of her head. 


	25. 31 May 2018 - Barcelona, Spain

David wandered down pit lane, poking his head into a few garages to say hello before the testing began. He was surprised to see a pair of familiar faces down in the Williams garage. 

“The peppy Pole is back?” he asked, clapping Robert on the back as he looked up with a wry smile. 

“Back for tests at least. Apparently the new guy is the one to watch,” he added, pointing to George Russell. Russell was the other test driver for the new season while he finished up his career in the lower formulas. He was hoping to eventually earn a spot in F1. 

“I think they get younger every year,” Inkeri quipped, waving at David as she continued moving through the pit. The work was never done before a test, and Claire was considerably further behind this year than most. It didn’t inspire a lot of confidence for anyone. 

“Hello, George, was it?” Coulthard asked, introducing himself to the new driver. Russell looked nervous and a little out of place, smiling as soon as he was included. 

“Yes, very nice to meet you, Mr. Coulthard,” he responded, holding out his hand. David took it, giving it a quick shake before correcting him. 

“Please, call me David. All the mister business makes me feel even older.” 

“Robert said the same thing,” he replied sheepishly, his cheeks tinged pink. 

“He’s a little gruff on the outside, but I promise he’s an incredible resource to learn from,” David reassured, giving Robert a scowl. “Don’t frighten the youngsters.” 

“Don’t point at me, give Inkeri that speech,” Robert retorted, holding his hands up. George’s cheeks went a little pinker as he looked over at the engineer. 

“Had some trouble?” Coulthard asked, keeping his voice quiet. George shook his head quickly. 

“Oh no, no trouble. Ms. Pedersen has been wonderful. She’s very knowledgeable about the car,” he gushed, scratching at the back of his neck. David gave him a friendly look, encouraging him to say whatever he was holding back. “She’s just… a little intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” Robert echoed, raising his eyebrows. 

“She’s not so bad to look at,” David shrugged, grinning at Kubica when Russell switched from pink to red. Kubica would certainly relish a chance to play a joke on the rookie.

“I guess she’s alright,” Kubica nodded, watching as George swallowed before nodding along. He was growing a little more confident as neither of the older men dissuaded him. 

“She’s definitely the prettiest engineer I’ve dealt with,” he conceded softly. Robert tilted his head, giving Coulthard a serious look before wolf-whistling at Inkeri.

She snapped up quickly from her position bent over the back of the car, giving Kubica the finger when she noticed him staring. He winked in response and grinned at her.

“You’re right, it’s a very nice view,” Robert said loudly, bumping George with his shoulder. Russell went entirely red, taking a quick step back and holding his hand up. Inkeri stared at both of them, looking uncomfortable when Kubica started making kissy sounds at her.

“That’s not what I said,” George spluttered, backtracking. “I wasn’t staring at you, I promise.” His face was beet red and he tried very hard to shush the Polish driver.

“I was,” Kubica added, not bothering to be subtle about his his eyes travelling over her. Russell looked like he might faint.

“You’re a filthy old man,” Inkeri shot back, trying her best to keep scowling at him. She was slipping though, secretly enjoying how relaxed he was. 

Kubica had been nervous about being back on track for the first time after his accident. He had talked to Inkeri about it and she had promised to do her best to stay with him all weekend. This, though, hadn’t been expected. 

“I can do filthy,” Kubica shrugged, smirking at her. Coulthard made a loud gagging noise, looking between Robert and Inkeri. They hadn’t changed a bit. 

“Put your money where your big mouth is, Kubica,” Inkeri challenged, her hard expression cracking as David clapped a hand over his eyes and dropped his head. 

“How are you still like this?” he despaired, turning away as Kubica moved across the garage toward Inkeri. He grabbed her, tossing her over his shoulder and walking back to George.

“George, properly meet Inkeri. Wife, properly meet little Georgie,” he introduced, turning around so Inkeri could shake Russell’s hand. George looked like his legs might give out, sudden relief washing over him. He had been terrified that Kubica was wildly overstepping, and worried about having such a teammate. 

“He makes lots of jokes,” Inkeri said, propping her head up on her hand. She was trying to emulate a comfortable position from where she was hanging over his shoulder. “Speaking of, you can put me down now. Kubi, put me down,” she continued when he hadn’t budged. 

“We’ve got an hour before the test,” he replied, turning to carry her off through the garage. 

“I still have things to do!” Inkeri shouted, trying to squirm out of his grasp. David cringed so hard he nearly got a muscle cramp.

“Oi, Kubica, hands off,” David whined nearly to himself, finally dropping his hand. There was a look of amusement on his face that slowly melted into shock as the rest of Kubica’s introduction clicked. “WIFE?”

Inkeri and Robert both froze, staring at each other with red faces. There was an obvious wordless battle going on between them as Robert gave Inkeri a particularly stern look. He must have won the silent argument because she ducked her head slightly and turned towards Coulthard. 

“Um, did I forget to call?” she began sheepishly, looking at least semi-repentant. “We got married at the end of last year.” David’s jaw dropped. 

“I’m going to ignore how left out I feel, and just say congratulations,” David relented, the annoyance fading from his eyes. “You always do charge headlong into things. So, what was it like? How’d you propose?” he asked, looking over to Robert. “Big fancy, down on one knee ordeal?” 

“Funny story, actually,” Inkeri began, linking her hand with Kubica’s when he walked over. “We kind of proposed at the same time.”

“I had a ring already, but Inkeri just blurted it out before I had the chance,” Kubica shrugged, grinning as he remembered standing behind her with a ring out as Inkeri asked him to marry her. 

“I don’t think it was strictly a coincidence that we walked right by the chapel,” she replied. 

“Yes, it was fate that we just happened to walk past a wedding place in Las Vegas,” he said sarcastically, faking a completely serious expression. Inkeri rolled her eyes and pulled her hand free, giving him a shove. 

“You eloped on vacation? How’d Frank feel about this whole thing?” Inkeri went white as a sheet. 

“Oh my god, I forgot to tell Frank,” she whispered hoarsely. Robert scoffed loudly. 

“Inkeri, did you tell anyone we got married?” She thought about it for a very long moment before slowly shaking her head. 

“In my defense, I haven’t exactly had much time. You’ve barely given me a moment’s peace since we got back from the States.” David whined loudly. 

“I don’t need to hear this,” he complained, holding his hands over George’s ears. “He’s too young for your shenanigans.” 

“Not like that. We’ve been trying to get ready for another season of travelling all the time,” Robert groused, staring at Coulthard. David merely raised his shoulders. 

“Just tell Frank before someone else does,” he suggested, patting Inkeri on the head. She scowled at him and swatted at his hand. 

“Just tell Frank,” she mimicked in her worst Scottish accent. 

“Tell me what?” Robert barely managed to cover his mouth, smothering his laughter as Inkeri went totally rigid. David, however, burst into loud laughter as he doubled over. Inkeri’s sass having finally gotten her in a bit of trouble. 

“Um, just something we need to talk about after testing. Nothing important,” she lied, hoping no one else would give it away before then. Frank clearly did not believe her, but he didn’t press, nodding his head. 

“Back to work then,” he chided, shooing David out of the garage. “No press allowed!” he pretended to gripe, following Coulthard until he was several feet outside the garage. 

Frank barked corrections during the testing, surprised to see Inkeri taking notes by hand. Almost everyone else on the team was using digital devices to copy down his words. 

George was incredibly quick, but a bit unpredictable. Some laps were perfect, not a single bobble to be noticed. Others, however, had several large mistakes like a missed apex or plowed over kerbs. 

Robert, on the other hand, wasn’t as fast but he was incredibly consistent. He managed to make almost the same lap for nearly 65 laps. Each corner was precise, braking and accelerating in the appropriate spots. The apex of each corner was nearly identical from lap to lap.

Inkeri had taken almost an entire notebook worth of notes over the telemetry on both cars. At one point, she had gotten so wrapped up in working that Frank had actually taken her notebook away. 

“Just watch the last few laps. You’re missing the most important part,” he chided, pulling the pen out of her hands. “Watch,” he instructed again, using his chair to nudge her towards the monitor. 

Inkeri finally took a seat, perching on the edge of the chair. Her smile only grew as she watched Robert back out on track. The Williams was white and blue, similar to the BMW he had been driving in 2008, and it brought back an expanse of memories. 

He wasn’t at the top of the timesheets, but Inkeri couldn’t have been prouder as she leaned out of the garage, watching him drive down pit lane. This was exactly where they belonged. 

Robert climbed out of the car, massaging his wrist and hand for a few moments before pulling his helmet off. He grinned as Inkeri nearly tackled him. 

“Oh my god. You’re amazing!” she squealed, jumping up and down. Kubica chuckled and let her bounce, still holding on to her hands. 

“Stroke my ego later, in private,” Robert suggested, pulling her close so he could whisper in her ear. Inkeri tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, reminding herself of how many people were in the garage. 

“It’s a good thing you planned to have tomorrow off because I intend to thoroughly exhaust you tonight,” she replied, keeping her voice quiet. 

“If you two could possibly tear yourselves away, I’d like to go over what we saw in testing,” Claire said loudly, interrupting them. She hadn’t been quite as supportive of her father’s driver selection as some of the other team members. 

Claire liked Robert and she knew that he had been an incredibly good driver during his first stint in F1, but she wasn’t as certain that he could still be that competitive. Frank, however, didn’t doubt Kubica for a moment. He was dedicated to the sport and had no illusions about the real atmosphere behind the scenes. 

“Absolutely,” Inkeri nodded, filing into the small briefing room with the other mechanics and the two drivers. “I want to start with this issue here with downforce. Something isn’t working between the front wing and the bottom plate,” Inkeri began, launching straight into a serious discussion. One hand pointed to points on the telemetry while the other was jammed onto the corner on a track map. 

“I feel it here,” Robert agreed, pointing to another corner. He winced slightly as his wrist moved; it was already starting to get stiff from the extended time in the car. This was the sort of movement you just couldn’t replicate in a gym. 

“Yes, it’s like the front end is lifting slightly so I lose grip,” George added, mimicking the movement he felt in the steering wheel. 

The aero specialist began jotting down notes, asking the drivers several questions about each piece of the track. Everyone noticed, but no one mentioned, how Inkeri automatically reached for Kubica’s arm, starting to gently knead the muscles in his wrist and hand. Robert’s focus didn’t waver and Inkeri continued voicing ideas and other small details she had noticed from the data sheets. 

They went over and over the details for two hours, making dozens of small changes to the cars. It was well after seven when they finished compiling the final book of notes so Claire moved to let the group go home. It had been a long, but very productive day. 

“Robert, Inkeri, may I speak with you both a moment?” Frank asked, gesturing them aside as they left the meeting. Inkeri nodded, but Robert could clearly see the nerves on her face. He placed his hand on the small of her back for a moment, letting her know that he was beside her no matter what Frank wanted to talk about. “I don’t know why I’m at all surprised that you make such an excellent team. There were a lot of… struggles for both of you and I wasn’t sure you’d make it out on this side of them. I’m very glad to see you so happy,” he said, smiling at Inkeri. “And you so relaxed,” he added, looking pointedly at Robert. “I just want to take a moment to do the dreaded, yet prudent thing. If something goes amiss, will you be able to continue working together?” 

“Yes,” Robert said shortly, staring at Inkeri. 

“I know you’re both professionals, but I also saw…” Kubica cleared his throat loudly, interrupting Frank. Frank looked between them, clearly confused. 

“Kubica would like for me to tell you, well, I’d like to tell you, too. I’m not hiding. I think I’m just worried about negative reactions since…” 

“Inkeri,” Robert said, stopping her nervous babble. 

“We got married.” Inkeri opened her mouth to say something else, but Frank’s happy cheer stopped her. 

“I don’t even mind that David won the bet. I’m just so happy for you,” he said, reaching for Inkeri’s hand. “He said you wouldn’t get engaged for at least ten years.” The giant smile was still in place, but Frank’s eyes looked sad. 

“You thought earlier?” Robert asked, grinning a little when Frank nodded. “I’ve had the ring since 2011 so you’re not exactly wrong,” he shrugged, squeezing Inkeri’s hand when he felt it wrap around his injured one. 

“It went the way it was supposed to,” Frank said solemnly, looking at the smiles on their faces. Despite the years, they still looked exactly like the goofy, lovestruck kids that had been at his house eight years ago. “I would have liked to have been there, but…” he trailed off. Frank had always wanted Inkeri to have a permanent place in his life, but he had also always understood her need for distance. “Anyway, I’m sure you have plenty of things you’d rather do than chat with an old man.” Inkeri grinned and leaned down, hugging him tightly. 

“We’ll see you in a week to look through the new wind tunnel data,” she said, surprised to see Kubica step forwards as she let Frank go. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, placing his hand on Frank’s shoulder. Frank briefly caught Inkeri’s gaze, looking as surprised as she was. 

“We’re lucky to have you in the team,” Frank nodded. Kubica patted his shoulder once more before ushering Inkeri out the door. Needing a little reprieve from all of the emotions of day, she tried to lighten the mood. 

“Hey, remember when you got your physical yesterday?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the hallway in front of them as they left. She glanced over as she felt Robert looking at her. He looked a little skeptical about her next statement. “The doctor said your left arm is 30% better than any other athlete he’s seen. I feel like I deserve to see this 30% improvement in your finger mobility.” 

“Ah, my fingers. I thought you were going to talk about using your fingers to find…” Kubica snapped his mouth shut, catching sight of a very red-faced George standing just outside the little building. 

“Your voices really carry. It’s like a big echo tube,” he stammered, unable to look either of them in the eyes. 

“One day, we’re going to learn not to be like this in public,” Inkeri groaned, covering her eyes with her hands. Kubica snorted. 

“He’s not really my team mate until he’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have.” 


	26. 14 March 2019 - Australian GP

Inkeri looked over at Robert, seeing the subtle excitement on his face. He couldn’t believe he was back in the paddock after such a long period away, but it felt incredible. George was much less stoic, the thrill of a GP weekend radiating off of him as he looked around at the other teams and fans pouring into the paddock. 

“Ready to be a Formula One driver?” Robert asked, clapping his teammate on the back. Russell nodded rapidly, smiling in wonder as they walked into the garage. His helmet, gloves, and firesuit were hanging at the back on his side of the pit, his name in giant block letters across the top of the box. 

“Glad to be back?” George inquired, gesturing to the massive amount of fans they had passed on the way in; a disproportionate amount were holding Polish flags compared to the amount of home-flags or British flags for Hamilton. Robert might have been absent for eight years, but the paddock certainly didn’t feel like it. 

“Just another day in the office,” he grinned, tossing an arm around Inkeri’s neck. “Right?” She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. 

“Yes, just a regular old day where you get to go out there and do the fun bit while I sit in the garage and listen to everyone complain about your lines or issues with the telemetry,” she grumbled, leaning into his side. “It is pretty great being back,” she conceded, a giant smile on her face as Kubica pulled her in a bit tighter, smacking a kiss to her temple.

“C’mon, I need some food before we get started on press interviews,” Kubica said, changing direction to the hospitality tent just down the way. George followed after them, keeping pace but not really walking next to them. Inkeri slowed down just enough, looping her arm through George’s. 

“I thought you were the fastest rookie,” she grinned, tugging him along. His cheeks pinked, but he didn’t disagree. 

“I wish we could have one of those ice creams,” George murmured, looking longingly at the freezer case in hospitality after they had finished their meal. Robert turned around in his seat, following George’s gaze. 

“Go get one,” he shrugged, twisting in his seat again. 

“I don’t think we’re supposed to have them. Healthy foods and all that during a race weekend,” Russell replied, looking sullenly down at his empty plate. The meal had been good, but there was something very tempting about ice cream in the warm Australian sunshine. Plus, he hadn’t allowed himself any sweets since Christmas. He was entirely committed to his role as a professional driver. 

Robert looked at him like he was crazy. He glanced over at Inkeri hiding a smile behind her hand. Kubica shook his head slightly and stood up, walking to the freezer case. He grabbed two ice creams out and walked back to the table, handing one to George. 

“We aren’t supposed to!” George hissed, trying, and failing, to whisper his complaints at Kubica. “You didn’t even get Inkeri one,” he mumbled, watching as Robert took a big bite out of the cone. 

“She doesn’t like ice cream.” 

“I don’t like sweets,” she confirmed, watching George carefully. He looked completely torn between devouring the little treat and putting it away. Slowly, he began unwrapping it, glancing around to be sure no one was watching. Being scolded by the team at the first race of the season would be too embarrassing. 

“We’re supposed to follow the rules,” he groused, taking a tentative bite of the chocolate topping. Russell made a very happy sound in the back of his throat, taking a second, much larger bite. Kubica grinned and nudged Inkeri under the table. 

“You’re always here to corrupt the children,” she chided, smiling back at him. “I like him. I think we should keep him,” Inkeri added, trying not to laugh at George’s red face. 

“Robert doesn’t seem like the paddock-dad type. He’s not exactly warm,” Russell joked, immediately looking worried when Robert scoffed loudly. 

“Are you going to let him talk to me like that?” he asked, crossing his arms and shifting to look at Inkeri. Her mouth popped open. “You’re the one who wanted him. He’s your responsibility,” Robert shrugged. His assistant waved at him through the glass door of hospitality, motioning for Kubica to come outside and start interviews. Kubica winked at Inkeri, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her still-bewildered face as he stood up. 

“Be nice. He doesn’t understand you’re joking yet,” Inkeri chided, her voice barely a whisper. Robert grinned, relenting just a bit. 

“Can’t let him get too comfortable just yet.” Inkeri gave him a stern look.

George leapt up as well, his nerves kicking in once more. He’d lost track of time and was now worried he was going to be late. He followed after Robert, nearly herding him along as the older man’s pace slowed. 

“Sass me again, and I’ll tell everyone you stole an ice cream,” Kubica said under his breath, suppressing a grin as he caught the brief terror on Russell’s face. “C’mon Georgie, don’t be late,” he chirped, waving over his shoulder at Inkeri before they disappeared from her sightline. 

Russell thought briefly about telling Robert he had some chocolate on his chin, but he reconsidered after the Pole called him Georgie. He knew Inkeri would find it funny and prevent Robert from strangling him if he didn’t take the joke as well as hoped. 

Coulthard frantically waved at Robert. Kubica groaned, but walked over, assuming David just wanted to chat with him first. Or, more likely, he just wanted to give Robert a hard time. 

“Kubica!” David greeted, drawing his name out. “What’s on your face, buddy?” Robert looked confused. “There’s a smudge,” Coulthard continued, pointing to his own chin. Kubica slowly lifted a hand to his face, frowning when he felt something slightly sticky. 

“Little bit of lunch,” he explained, shrugging. The corner of his mouth twitched up as he caught George’s eye. His face went red and Kubica knew he had noticed the chocolate earlier. He nodded at the kid, appreciating the joke and silently resolving to get his own revenge. 

“Everybody is all focused on fitness and diets, and then there’s you. The returning hero who enjoys dessert during the season.”

Even though the garage was mostly empty, Inkeri could feel the tension from the moment she walked in. The mechanics scurried around with their heads down, while some of the engineers stood off to the side in a little clump. Inkeri started to join them, wanting to see what was going on, but her direction changed as Claire waved at her, motioning her into the office just through the back. 

“I’m glad you’re here a bit early, I need to discuss something with you,” Claire said quickly, pointing to the chair in front of her. She folded her hands on the desk, looking pensively at Inkeri. 

“Alright,” Inkeri replied slowly, perching on the edge of the chair. She could feel the anxiety coming off of the older woman in waves. 

“As you know, Paddy is on leave,” Claire began, fidgeting in her seat. “He’s… there’s been…” she paused again, clearly fumbling for what she wanted to say. Claire had not always been the strongest under pressure. 

“Personal reasons,” Inkeri supplied quietly, hoping to ease some of Claire’s nerves. She had been through a few tense situations with her before. 

“Yes, personal reasons. I’m not sure when or if he will be returning to the team. Which leaves us in a rather tight spot.” Claire unclasped her hands, shuffling some of the papers on her desk. “I was going through some of your history and references with my dad, and we both think you could be a good fit to temporarily take over Paddy’s position within the team.” 

“I don’t have a lot of experience directly in Formula 1. That combined with my personal relationship with Kubica could make for some negative reactions in the media,” Inkeri explained, making sure to keep her voice completely neutral. This could be a great opportunity for her, but she wanted to be sure all of the angles were considered first. It would be better to be passed over now, rather than removed within a few weeks. 

“That was my stance on it, as well, but dad thinks you have a different perspective than most of the more experienced people we could get. And, honestly, I agree that the team needs innovation to have any change at shrinking the gap,” Claire confessed, pushing a contract towards Inkeri. 

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have any ideas for fixes,” Inkeri confessed, perusing the contract. “I’m assuming this is negotiable?” she asked, passing the paper back to Claire. “Taking over as chief technical officer isn’t 5% more work than I was doing.” Claire took the contract back hesitantly. Inkeri knew their financial situation, but she also knew how much work she would have to put in to try and get the team back to a competitive place. 

“I’ll talk it over with Frank, but Inkeri…” 

“I’m not asking for anything comparable to Paddy’s salary. I know what my background is, and I’m well aware of what’s going on here. I’m only asking for a 20% increase,” Inkeri interrupted, standing up. “Talk to Frank; I’ll be in the garage the rest of the day.” 

The next morning, Inkeri was announced as acting chief technical officer during Paddy Lowe’s personal leave. 


	27. 7 July 2019 - Somewhere in the Dolomites

Inkeri jumped off the footstool, rushing across the room to grab her ringing phone. She was happily surprised to see it was a FaceTime call. 

“Hey, look who learned something new,” she chirped, grinning at the sweaty, unshaven face that appeared on her screen. Kubica was looking ahead, his phone obviously somehow mounted to the handlebars of his bicycle. “Is it safe to cycle and talk?” 

“It’s just warmup, so they have a section of the road closed,” he explained, briefly glancing down to look at her. “How’s the work going?” 

“It’s close to finished now. Claire sent everybody home for the afternoon.” Inkeri wasn’t going to mention that she had walked out, prompting the half day off. There had been zero improvements in the car despite countless hours of research. She had discovered a few big flaws, but Claire was adamant that the original plan was the only one they would follow. 

“I still feel like I should be there instead of here,” Kubica replied, able to read the frustration in Inkeri’s tone without seeing her expression. 

“When have I ever not encouraged something that involved you in skintight lycra?” she grinned, hoping to change the subject. She wasn’t trying to hide her issues, but they could certainly wait until he was back home in a few days. Robert rolled his eyes. 

“I look like a big, fat sausage in a sponsored casing.” 

“Well, you have a big, fat…” Inkeri paused, hearing laughter in the background. “Hello Filippo,” she added, trying not to laugh at Robert’s bright red cheeks. 

“Hi, Inkeri! Bobby’s proof it just gets better after 40,” Filippo said brightly, briefly appearing on screen before Robert shooed him away, grumbling about ‘not even 35 yet’. 

“I keep trying to explain the importance of skincare,” Inkeri shrugged, making sure her voice was loud enough to be heard. 

“I’m going to hang up on you,” Robert groused, briefly glancing down at the screen before focusing back on the road. He heaved a sigh, “Why is there paint on your forehead?” 

“I’m sprucing up the apartment,” she explained, mentally cursing herself for being so careless. The freshly painted bedroom and kitchen were supposed to be a surprise. Robert looked like he might argue for a moment before shaking his head. 

“Like you said two days ago, whatever happiness is available this season,” he replied. “I’m not sure about that shade of grey, though.” 

“I’m not sure about that tiny hat, but I keep my opinion to myself,” Inkeri smiled sweetly, winking when Robert glanced down at the screen. 

“Do you see the way she talks to me?” Robert asked, glancing over at Filippo. 

“Are you going to gag me, pierogi?” she drawled, bursting into laughter as the screen shook slightly, as though Kubica had partially swerved. 

“Inkeri…” 

“Good luck, Kubi! Love you,” she sing-songed, hanging up before Robert could chastise her for talking like that in front of his friends. Filippo was staring at Kubica with his mouth hanging open. 

“You two are disgustingly in love, aren’t you? I feel happy, nauseous, and jealous.” Kubica grinned despite his earlier embarrassment. Inkeri certainly knew how to push his buttons, but he definitely felt better after talking to her. She hadn’t even needed to say it out loud, her unfailing support obvious just in the way she looked at him. 

“And soon you’re going to feel defeated,” Kubica nodded, adjusting the strap of his helmet. He felt confident, relaxed, and surprisingly prepared for the 106km bike ride ahead. 

Inkeri hummed thoughtfully, sitting her phone down. She picked up the roller and set back to work painting the spare bedroom. She hoped Kubica would like the other surprise a bit more. 

Three days later, he showed up at the apartment looking exhausted, a big smile stretching across his face as Inkeri darted through the apartment to greet him. He hadn’t been gone long, but there was still something deeply wonderful about him coming back. 

“What did you paint?” he asked, his mind immediately going to whatever little project she had done. Inkeri tried to hide her still-stained fingertips, knowing that was what had reminded him so quickly. 

“It’s just some basic sprucing, nothing to even see,” she replied, hoping he might be tired enough to let it go. Kubica looked more interested now, and Inkeri dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Ok, how about it’s a surprise? Can you just wait until after the GP this weekend?” 

“Because you broke something, and it’s secretly being fixed while we’re gone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Inkeri glared at him. 

“One time, that happened one time!” she said loudly, the exasperation clear in her voice. “Did you come home just to remind me of your incredible nit-picking skills?”

“No,” he relented, pulling her into his arms. “I came home to sleep in a bed and take a proper hot shower. Also, noticing the vent above the stove was charred is not nit-picking,” he grinned. Inkeri sighed loudly, looking up to retort. Instead of speaking, she went sort of rigid, pushing away from him. She bolted out of the room. 

Kubica heard the bathroom door shut, and he picked up his bag, dropping it besides the bed before slowly following after her. It was a little odd that she had dashed off to the guest bath, but it was closer so he didn’t think too much of it. 

“You alright?” he said, raising his voice just enough to be heard through the door. Kubica frowned as he heard her retching. 

“Yea, I’m ok,” she said after another few moments. She didn’t sound ok, though. “Go take your hot shower, I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Robert wanted to protest, but he also knew Inkeri wasn’t going to open the door. 

Inkeri was curled up on the couch, nose buried in a book, by the time he reemerged, hair still wet from the shower. She glanced up at him, faking a wide-eyed look of surprise. 

“There’s a shirtless man wandering around the apartment!” Robert rolled his eyes, flopping onto the couch next to her. He reached for her legs, pulling them over his lap. “The windows are open,” she gasped, starting to laugh as he poked her. 

“I am occasionally shirtless,” he grumbled, leaning over to rest his head on her shoulder. Inkeri scooted forwards on the couch, giving him enough room to snuggle up beside her. 

“Not nearly enough,” she winked, scratching her fingernails lightly against his chest. She saw the goosebumps rising on his skin, but he was not a man to be distracted today. 

“Why are you ill?” he asked, wrapping his arm tighter around her waist. They were well and truly tangled up now. 

“I’m not ill. I think that leftover pizza didn’t agree with me. That’s all,” she explained. 

“The pizza I put in the bottom corner so we would remember to throw it away?” 

“Yea, I wasn’t sure why you put it there. It was still good,” Inkeri disagreed, resting her hands over his arm. Robert chuckled under his breath, the tail end turning into a sigh. 

“I made that three weeks ago. There were plenty of other things in there.” 

“I know, and I still think it’s incredibly sweet that you made food for me so I didn’t have to cook while you were gone. I was just craving pizza,” she shrugged, grinning at the look on his face. He was just barely visible in the corner of her eye, but she could easily read his expression. 

“I’m glad you think I make food to take care of you, and not so I know the apartment will still be standing when I come home.” 

“And  _ I _ think it’s cute that you don’t realise I see straight through you. You just keep pretending not to be a big softie, and I’ll pretend I believe you.” Kubica made a noise of defeat, covering his face with his hand. “You don’t have to say it, I know you missed me,” she said brightly, turning to kiss the back of his hand. His fingers split so he could look at her. 

“You’re a menace,” he grumbled, eyes full of happiness despite his words. 

  
  



	28. 28 July 2019 - German Grand Prix

Robert reached blindly for his phone, switching off the blaring alarm. He stretched and yawned, scratching at his sides. Beside him, Inkeri barely stirred, her head still burrowed under her pillow. 

“Kochanie,” he murmured, leaning over to press soft kisses over her bare shoulder. She mumbled something he couldn’t make out and scooted backwards, grabbing his arm and pulling it back around her. Kubica grinned and held her tightly against his chest, closing his eyes for a moment as he remembered how lucky he was to have these moments. “Kochanie,” he tried again, his voice a little more insistent. 

Inkeri hummed in response and pressed her lips to the hand she was still holding, letting him know she was listening. She had felt exhausted the past few days and waking up this early was a struggle. 

“Do you want to come to the track with me or come down later?” Inkeri slowly rolled to face him, her eyes finally blinking open. She let go of his hand, covering her mouth as she yawned widely. 

“I’ll come with you,” she replied, her voice hoarse. Inkeri rolled out of bed, ignoring the sudden urge to vomit. She had learned how to mostly control that, but the sleepiness she couldn’t control. 

Robert was clearly worried about her strange behaviour, but he had refrained from asking any more questions after she had snapped at him to pay attention to his racing on Friday. He had looked put out, and Inkeri had instantly felt guilty. However, he made it a point not to ask about her well-being any more. 

He was frustrated, but he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he made sure to keep crackers around, and pretended to be tired so they could get out of some team obligations a little early. It wouldn’t be a prolonged plan, but it worked for this weekend. Robert would get answers later. 

Inkeri scrubbed a hand across her face. She knew Kubica was watching her from the back of the garage, so she tried to look as bright as possible. 

“Inkeri,” Claire said flatly in greeting. The mood hadn’t improved at all since their altercation three weeks earlier. 

“Sorry I wasn’t in the garage this morning; I’m still feeling… off,” she replied, knowing she would have to explain things to her as well. 

“You weren’t expected. As far as I’m concerned, you’re welcome to quit. If not, I expect you to make the car competitive.” Inkeri snapped her mouth shut, cutting off the very rude remark that threatened to come out. 

“Just going to let her talk to you like that?” Robert asked, appearing beside her. The corners of his mouth turned down in an expression of surprise as she held her tongue. 

“I’ll give her my thoughts when we aren’t being filmed,” Inkeri replied, subtly gesturing to the cameras in the paddock. It was a good way to get new fans and keep old fans, but it was very inconvenient right now. “I’m guessing your steering wheel didn’t magically materialise?” Robert shook his head. 

“Another day of not being able to reach all the buttons. I’m starting last, though, so it shouldn’t be too hard to hold position,” he grinned, grabbing his helmet off the table behind her. She grinned despite hating those words. He was capable of so much more, and she knew how frustrating it was not to be able to show it.

Inkeri was also getting increasingly frustrated at having each improvement she suggested immediately shot down. The team had made very little progress, and most of the criticism was falling on her. It would have been deserved if Claire hadn’t been blocking every idea she’d had.

“You’ll at least get past Georgie,” she replied, standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss against his chin. 

“Oi, I can hear you,” George snipped from his side of the garage. “And I still hate that you pass me every damn race. Just stay behind me for once.” 

“He’s just mad because his car is faster, and it still takes him fifteen laps to get back around me,” Robert whispered, smirking at the expression on George’s face. 

“I  _ can’t _ hear you now, but I know you’re maligning my character,” he retorted, tugging his helmet on with a huff. 

“You’re very paranoid, you know.” 

“Oh hush, you,” he grumbled, waving her off with his gloves. Robert raised his eyebrows and stared at him, the look getting more stern the longer it went on. “I’m sorry. Really sorry,” George apologised quickly, not wanting to test if the look was joking or not. 

“Be nice,” Inkeri chastised, grinning at Robert and gently smacking him in the stomach. Robert winked at her, looking smug. 

“He’s scared of me. I enjoy it.” Kubica’s expression went a bit stern again, and he pulled Inkeri aside, trying to get a little privacy. “Ukochany, just tell me this much,” he began, his tone causing Inkeri to listen extra carefully. “Are you going to be alright?” 

“Yes, Kubi. I told you…” Robert put a hand over her mouth, wanting to grin at her exasperation despite how worried he felt. He waited just a few moments before dropping his hand. Inkeri took a deep breath. “I’m ok. I promise,” she said firmly, keeping her eyes on his. 

Kubica nodded, satisfied with her answer. Whatever it was, he knew Inkeri wouldn’t flat lie to him. He pulled on his helmet, and lowered his head just enough, waiting for her to press a kiss to the side of it. 

It might have been cheesy, but he made sure to have her kiss his helmet before he got in the car every time. She’d done it at the first rally she had attended since his accident, and now it had become tradition. 

Inkeri smiled broadly as Kimi managed to make his way to 3rd place in the first lap. She made sure to always cheer for the guys who had been around from the beginning. They were a little more special to watch. 

Vettel and Leclerc also made their way up through the field, capitalising on the slow start for some off the line. Unfortunately, Verstapped also regained his pace, quickly passing Raikkonen back. 

As the rain disappeared, half of the pack found themselves being passed. The wet tyres were no longer working in these new conditions. To make matters worse, Ricciardo suffered an engine failure and stopped on track, causing a virtual safety car. 

The race continued to be fraught with difficulties. Norris lost power and caused another virtual safety car period on lap 22. On lap 26, Leclerc hit the wall, ending his race and causing a full safety car. Just after this, Hamilton nicked the wall in the same corner, cutting across the grass into pit lane for a new front wing. 

Hulkenberg went out on lap 39, his car beached in one of the gravel traps. This incident brought out yet another safety car. Inkeri forced herself to relax, rolling her shoulders back as she watched the cars darting into pit lane to change tyres since the rain had again stopped.

Just a few laps later, Bottas slid into a tyre barrier, ending his race a few laps too soon. After the safety car period ended, Gasly and Albon collided, causing terminal damage to Gasly’s Red Bull. 

Kvyat crossed the line in third, several seconds behind Verstapped and Vettel. Inkeri waited until Robert had safely crossed the finish line before relaxing. She was thrilled to see the young Russian earn a podium. 

Kubica barked out a laugh as he answered the knock on his motorhome door. His mechanic, Ben, was standing on the step holding out a bottle of champagne. 

“The team is properly celebrating our recently awarded point!” he cheered, handing the bottle to Robert. “Alfa got penalties so that puts you in tenth,” he explained, clapping Robert on the shoulder before disappearing back down the paddock. 

Robert turned to face Inkeri, shrugging casually despite the giant smile spreading across his face. “A point is probably the closest to a win we’ll get this year,” he chuckled, popping the cork. He held the bottle out to Inkeri for the first drink, but she declined. 

“You scored the point, obviously you have to drink first,” she said, a sly smile spreading across her face as Kubica took a swig and held the bottle out again. “Now, you have to take a second first drink to celebrate something else.” Kubica’s eyes narrowed slightly in confusion but he took another, longer, drink. “You, sir…” Inkeri began, pausing to gather a bit of her courage, “are going to be a father,” she finished, the nerves set in once more as Kubica stood completely motionless, a stunned expression frozen on his face. Inkeri chewed on her bottom lip, wondering why he wasn’t responding. “Kubi…” 

He clunked the bottle onto the table and scooped her into his arms, tugging her off the couch in one move. He babbled in rapid-fire Polish, Inkeri struggling to understand any of it as he twirled her around the little living area. 

“This is the second best day of my life,” he nearly shouted, barely letting Inkeri’s feet touch the ground before he dipped her back in a Hollywood-style kiss. 

“Second best?” Inkeri asked, still breathless from his enthusiasm. “That was a hell of a kiss.” She pretended to fan herself as she sat back down. 

“The best day was when you showed up at Spa. Meeting you was amazing, but getting a second chance…” he trailed off, shaking his head. 

“No,” Inkeri whined, seeing the shine of tears in his eyes. “If you get emotional, I’m going to get emotional and I just want to celebrate. Not sit here and cry like a couple of massive saps.”

“Oh my god, pregnancy demands already,” he grumbled, grinning as Inkeri tried to glare at him. 


	29. 31 August 2019 - Spa-Francorchamps

Robert looked up from his plate of food in the Williams hospitality tent. There was a small commotion happening outside and he breathed a small sigh of relief when Inkeri walked in. Her expression was grim, but at least she wasn’t the cause of the upset outside. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, his shoulders tensing when Inkeri didn’t take the seat next to him. 

“There’s been a big incident in the F2 sprint. I think you need to check in on George,” she said firmly, knowing Kubica would resist. He liked his teammate, but he still didn’t think they needed to be friends. 

“I’m sure plenty of people will look in on him. He’s got all the other guys from that category,” Robert answered, putting another bite of food into his mouth. 

“Kubi,” she began, fixing him with a pleading look. Robert straightened and sat his fork down, turning to face her. “Anthoine Hubert died.” Kubica swallowed, looking away. Inkeri could tell that he was shutting off whatever was going through his head. “George has never lost someone to this sport. He just needs a little support from someone who understands it a bit more.” 

“It’s racing. These things happen,” Robert said shortly, standing up from the table abruptly. “If he doesn’t understand, he should have picked a different career.” Inkeri’s mouth dropped open slightly, surprised at his behaviour. 

Inkeri walked back to the Williams garage alone, wondering why Robert had gotten so defensive. It had been a long time since he had shut her out like that. She approached George’s motorhome and knocked on the door, wondering if he was there. 

After a few moments, a head of tousled brown hair appeared. George looked exhausted, his nose red and eyes still a little watery. 

“I’m not really up for company at the moment,” he said weakly, obviously torn between wanting to be alone and wanting someone else to be there. 

“Trust me, I’m really good at entertaining myself,” she grinned, walking up the last step as George moved to let her in. Inkeri noticed a broken glass on the counter, automatically walking into the kitchen to sweep the broken bits off the counter. 

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll get to it later,” he protested, trying to shoo her out of the kitchen. 

“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make some coffee?” she asked, ignoring him. George looked at her for a long moment before nodding, going to sit at the small table across from the kitchenette. 

“The cup must have slipped out of my hand,” he mumbled, staring down at his hands. “I didn’t mean for you to come in here and clean.” 

“George, it’s alright,” Inkeri said softly, sitting a steaming mug in front of him. “I ‘dropped’ a few things after Kubica’s accident,” she admitted, patting his hand gently. Russell’s eyes flicked up to look at her before quickly dropping back to his hands. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I threw some things. At first, I was so confused it felt like I was in a trance. I couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened,” she explained, carefully watching his expression to see if she was helping or hurting. “After, though, the anger set in. I was so mad at the world in general. I didn’t understand why.” She paused, taking a long sip of her own drink. 

“Do you understand now?” Inkeri looked at him and blinked, momentarily distracted by her own thoughts. “Why it happened,” he added, tilting his head. 

“I realised there isn’t a why, per se. It happened because that’s racing. Sometimes you win, and sometimes everything goes wrong. The only way what happened today could have been prevented is if he’d never gotten in the car.” George didn’t look convinced but he didn’t say anything, finally drinking his coffee. “If you want to stop racing, no one would blame you. But if you don’t, you have to face this reality,” Inkeri said quietly, watching as Russell stood up. He paced a bit, as though his skin itched at the thought of sitting still. 

“How, Inkeri? How do you watch Kubica go out there and not think about it all the time?” George asked, his voice getting louder as he carried on. “I don’t get how you can sit there and say you understand the cost of it, but still support him putting himself in danger every fucking weekend. How,” he paused, flopping down on the seat across from her, “am I supposed to not worry about my friends getting killed? How do I not worry about my girlfriend, my family having to watch that happen to me?” The fear in his eyes slowly dissipated, replaced by a profound sadness. Inkeri took a deep breath and considered his rant, unsure of the best way to explain it. 

“I  _ do _ understand the cost,” she said firmly, dipping her head so he had to look at her. “I very nearly lost Kubica to motorsport. I lost my dad to it in a different way. So believe me, I am not disillusioned by the money, the celebrity, or any of the flashy things that come with racing.” Russell sat up straighter. “You can either learn what I did and keep racing, or you can learn something different and move on.” 

“What’s that?” he asked, starting to look a little more himself than earlier. 

“Appreciate the time you have,” she shrugged. “Even when Kubica is actively pissing me off, I have a moment where I look at him and remember just how lucky we are.” 

Inkeri spent another couple of hours with George. He ranted a bit more, but mostly, he just wanted company. She stayed until he finally seemed calmer, most of his frustrations vented. 

Robert briefly glanced up as she arrived back at their shared motorhome. He was busy with a stack of papers on the kitchenette table and only offered her a half-smile. Whatever had been bothering him earlier was obviously still fresh in his mind. 

“I’m going to bed,” Inkeri grumbled, suddenly exhausted. She heard several papers shuffle as Robert suddenly jumped up, rushing towards her. 

“It’s not even dark. Are you alright?” he questioned, worry etched deeply on his face as he reached for her. “Is the baby…” he started, his hand brushing over her stomach. 

“Everything is fine. I’m just tired,” she interrupted, gently pushing his hands away as she stepped backwards. “I don’t have it in me to push you to talk to me tonight,” she shrugged, frowning as his expression turned stern again. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Inkeri closed her eyes, the only way to prevent her eye roll. 

“You want to shut me out right now, fine,” she said quietly, turning to walk away from him. Robert muttered something under his breath, but Inkeri could hear his footsteps heading the other way. 

Despite how exhausted she really was, she could not fall asleep. She and Robert rarely fought so the silence was more than enough to keep her wide awake. 

Inkeri rolled out of bed and wandered back into the main area. She was still annoyed with him, but it was very late and she wanted to be sure he got some sleep before the race. 

Kubica was slumped over the table, his chin resting on his left hand. He was slowly falling asleep sitting up, and his head dipped a few times as he fought to stay sitting up. Inkeri smiled at the sight of him, walking up to stand beside him. 

“Kubi,” she whispered, reaching out her hand to rest on the top of his head. He looked blearily up at her for a moment before wrapping his arms around her waist, nestling his face against her abdomen. 

“I’m sorry.” His words were muffled in the fabric of her shirt, but Inkeri heard him clearly. Just like that, the ice between them thawed. She gently scraped her fingernails over his scalp, leaning down to press a kiss against his hair. 

“C’mon, you need to get some sleep,” Inkeri instructed, helping tug him to his feet. Robert pulled off his shirt, followed by his trousers, leaving the clothes in a trail behind him as he followed Inkeri back to the bed. 

He forewent his usual bedtime routine and crawled under the blankets. He reached for Inkeri, hooking one arm around her hips and pulling her tightly against his chest. Inkeri snuggled against him, letting Robert cocoon her in his arms. She could tell that he needed to hold on to her as an anchor against whatever storm was brewing in his head. 

“I can’t just pretend that everything is alright,” he murmured, breathing a sigh of relief when Inkeri kept her head tucked beneath his chin. It was easier to be vulnerable when he didn’t have to hold her gaze. “I know how dangerous racing is, but…” 

“But you don’t have to see it illustrated every weekend,” Inkeri finished for him, feeling the catch in his breath. Kubica nodded, closing his eyes against the images in his mind. “I remember the first time I saw photos after your crash. I avoided them while we were still together, but once I started working at Ford, there was always a rally race on the TV in the breakroom. Every time you were racing, there they were. All the pictures of you…” she stuttered, remembering exactly how her whole body had gone numb the first time. She had barely walked back to her office before collapsing on the floor, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Your beautiful face all bruised, that awful space blanket, and those giant feet poking out at the end. Every time I see those photos, I can still feel just how cold your toes were,” Inkeri whispered, resting her palms flat against his chest. “When I saw you in Spa, I knew I was making a huge mistake letting any more time pass without telling you I still loved you.”

“We have so much to lose now.” Inkeri softly nodded in agreement. 

“I think it means we should spend more time enjoying it, rather than worrying. I told George, and I’ll tell you the same, even when you’re annoying the piss out of me, I still adore you. I almost missed all of this, and I’m not going to waste any more time when I could just be appreciating it.” 

“I want to finish this season, but I might not want another,” Robert admitted, loosening his grip so Inkeri could scoot back enough to see his face. 

“Anything you want, Kubi,” Inkeri agreed, raising up on her elbow so she could kiss him. 

“Anything?” he queried, raising an eyebrow. She scoffed at him, rolling her eyes before brushing her lips against his again. “We’re appreciating each other,” he shrugged, grinning at Inkeri’s snort. 

“Just being certain not to take any moment for granted?” she asked, her lips tickling his jaw as she spoke the words against his stubbled chin. 

“I would never,” he promised, his fingertips tracing over her sides as he pulled the shirt up. Inkeri swatted his hands away, pushing him onto his back. Kubica grumbled in frustration, reaching for her again as she caught his wrists, pinning them to the bed. 

“Show me how much you love me,” she said firmly, tilting her head to the side as she looked at him. 

“You know I love you,” he answered, lifting his head to try and kiss her. Inkeri met him partway, but was careful not to let his lips reach hers. 

“Oh, Kubi. We both know you can do better,” she frowned, shifting so she could hold his arms in place with her knees. She pulled her shirt over her head, sitting up straight as she straddled him. “Don’t you want to touch me?” Inkeri taunted, running her hands over her abdomen. Kubica nodded, his mouth slightly ajar as he watched her every movement. 

“Please.” Inkeri smirked down at him, letting her left hand slide further down her stomach. Her fingers pushed under her waistband and she closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of power as Kubica groaned and squirmed under her. “Prosze,” he repeated, his voice raspy as he switched to his native Polish. “Prosze.” Inkeri smiled broadly, knowing she could reward his good behaviour. The guttural tone meant his resolve was totally abolished. 

She shifted her position, releasing his hands. Kubica surged forward, driving Inkeri backwards on the bed. He roughly hitched her knees over his shoulders, grinning at her squeal before pressing his face against her thigh, biting the soft skin. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll remember every noise and expression you make,” he reassured, the left corner of his mouth ticking up before he moved to leave a deep purple mark on her other thigh. “Can’t let you forget a single moment either.” Inkeri wanted to say something smart back, but she was definitely at a loss for words right now. And, the rest of the night. 


	30. 3 November 2019 - Austin, Texas

Kubica watched intently as Inkeri got ready for bed. He made sure to keep his glances short, not wanting her to catch him staring. The book in his lap had long been forgotten as soon as he’d noticed her deviation from the normal routine.

Instead of reaching for one of his team shirts, her sleeping attire since they had moved back in together, she grabbed an oversized nightdress and baggy sweatpants. He wondered how long she had been doing this and felt bad that he had just realised. Everything else about her routine had stayed the same: face washing, teeth brushing, moisturizer, and finally flip off the lights as she walked to the bed.

As she groaned slightly and rubbed at her side, Robert nearly gave away his study with a sharp intake of breath. Inkeri was nearly five months pregnant now and his shirts probably no longer fit over her belly. He grinned to himself and pretended to continue reading, making a mental note to fix this somehow.

“You’re very covered up,” he commented, looking over as she carefully pulled the blanket up to her chest.

“Yes, well, I’m very large,” she replied, blushing when he tilted his head. Everything about her felt oversized, and it was an uncomfortable new feeling. Even worse, the idea of having four more months to keep growing.

“Inkeri…” he began, cut off by the hand she held up.

“I’m growing a human so I need to be large, it’s a blessing, blah blah blah,” she ranted, gesturing as she spoke. “I know, Kubi. It’s just... sometimes my body feels like a stranger,” she admitted, letting her hands drop to the mattress beside her. Kubica looked disappointed and Inkeri glanced down, wondering if he was disappointed in her. She wasn’t very confident right now and maybe that was a big turn off.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, reaching over to link his fingers with hers. “I’ve failed at being a good husband.” Inkeri squeezed his hand, not understanding how he had failed. She also hated that he ever felt that way.

“Please don’t say that. You haven’t failed at anything.”

“Kochanie, if you don’t realise how breathtaking you are, then I have failed. You might look a little different right now, but that doesn’t make you any less beautiful,” he explained, absently rubbing at the scars on his forearm.

Inkeri took a deep breath and pulled the nightdress over her head, resolving to be proud of this new shape. Slowly, she met Robert’s gaze, the hungry look in his eyes making goosebumps break out on her skin. She wondered if he had ever not looked at her like that, instantly feeling embarrassed that she had ever worried about him finding her attractive.

Robert moved closer, letting his fingertips trace over her stomach. Inkeri didn’t show any signs of discomfort and the fingertips were replaced by lips as he dotted kisses over the exposed skin.

“Every inch of you is beautiful,” he murmured, emphasizing each word with a kiss. His hand dipped beneath the waistband of her sweats. Inkeri gasped and let her head fall back on the pillow, giving in to what she was feeling rather than thinking.

Unlike every morning for the past two weeks, Kubica woke up to find Inkeri still nestled against his chest. Whatever little storm they had unknowingly weathered was calm. He resolved never to let her worry about his affections again. If she needed a little extra reassurance, he would certainly provide it.

“Race day,” she murmured against his chest, stirring as Robert reached for the alarm. 

“It is,” he agreed, returning his arm around her waist. Inkeri clung on a little tighter, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. “I’m glad you’re still coming to races,” he murmured, turning his head to kiss her hair. 

“Little kierowca has good timing.” Robert smiled, pleasantly surprised that Inkeri had nicknamed the baby. Everyone in the paddock had been calling it their little bean so he should have expected her to come up with something all her own. 

“Little driver,” he echoed fondly, shaking his head at the overwhelming ‘gooey’ feeling in his chest. “Have you thought any more about names?” Inkeri rolled more onto her back, resting her hand on top of his still draped around her shoulders. 

“I think I have them picked out. Either boy or girl, we’re prepared.” Robert risked a glance over at her. 

“Do you want to share them with me?” Inkeri shook her head and smiled at him. 

“Would you really deny your pregnant wife anything?” she asked, biting her lip at the look of sheer devotion on his face. 

“Anything at all, just ask and it is yours.” 

Anything?” she confirmed, a mischievous look in her eyes. He nodded his agreement, laying back against the mattress as Inkeri pushed at his shoulder. 

“Why are you late?” Ben asked, giving Kubica a very skeptical glance as he shrugged. 

“Alarm didn’t go off,” he lied unconvincingly. He didn’t care, though. 

“Overslept?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows as Robert slipped past him into the garage. “I’m sure the cameras will love a good shot of that hickey.” Kubica snapped upright, nearly dropping his gloves. 

He muttered a few curses under his breath, moving over to glance at his reflection in the small mirror at the back of the pit. There were no visible marks and he realised what Ben had done. 

“It was a very good morning and I’m not sorry for being late. We still have plenty of time before the race.”

“We do, mate,” Ben agreed, nodding. “But, you missed the driver’s parade,” he added, pointing to the monitor. It was showing the parade lap of vintage cars minus one noticeably absent Pole. 

“Oops.” Robert grinned sheepishly, feeling a little bad now. The slight disappointment lasted until Inkeri walked into the garage, her cheeks still flushed and a smile on her face. 

“Eugh, quit mooning over the missus and get your gloves,” Ben reprimanded, accompanying the noise with a grimace. Kubica grinned at his expression but did as asked, starting to get prepped for the race ahead. 

He zipped up his fireproofs before grabbing his gloves and helmet sock. Properly suited, he began the process of stretching and warming up his muscles. By the time George was back on the other side of the pit, he was ready to hop in the car. 

In just a few minutes, they had both cars started and heading towards the starting line. Kubica had managed to qualify ahead of Russell for the second time all season, and thanks to Stroll starting from pit lane, he wasn’t starting on the last row. 

Inkeri bounced on her feet as the lights went out, both Williams getting a decent start. There was contact between Perez, Grosjean, and Hulkenberg in the first corner, giving the blue cars a few more spots as the Renault retired. The black and gold Haas and an orange Mclaren suffered punctures in the incident, retreating to the back of the field. 

The drivers began ticking off lap after lap, no more collisions occurring until lap 36 when Verstappen tried, and failed, to get around Raikkonen’s Alfa Romeo. Inkeri watched in amusement as Kimi climbed straight out of the car and over the tire wall, walking back to pit lane without even a second glance. 

The front runners gained a significant gap, lapping the first Williams on lap 39. Kubica’s pit crew had made a small error on his stop, letting Russell get back in front of him. 

As they headed into the final few laps, Robert passed Perez as his car finally gave up, having suffered too much damage in a second collision. This one had put his teammate out and now the other Racing Point joined him. 

Kubica slipstreamed his teammate on the penultimate lap, catching a tow from his fellow Williams. He cut to the inside on turn 1 and nipped past Russell heading down the hill. 

Inkeri held her breath as George pulled off a close pass through the ‘S’, nearly touching wheels with the other Williams. It was clean, though, and Kubica kept on his tail. In just a few more corners, he stuck a second pass on his younger teammate, holding the spot across the finish line. 

The two Williams managed to finish 12th and 13th thanks to all of the retirements and car issues out on track. It was close to the best they had done all season. 

George and Robert were both all smiles as they climbed out of the cars back in the garages. They shook hands with all of the team members they could reach, mindful to thank everyone for all of the hard work required to keep an F1 car going. 

“The old man still has a ton of tricks up his sleeve,” George joked, leaning in so Inkeri could hear him. 

“You, sweet child, just have a lot to learn still,” Inkeri shot back, grinning at the surprised expression. “He’s not your wise sensei.”

“Wife, do not slander me in front of the children,” Robert groused, ducking back a step when Inkeri moved to smack him in the stomach. “I’m at least a much better coach than you.” 

“And how do you figure that, Kubica?” she asked, tilting her head. Kubica looked thoughtful, weighing his next words. 

“I don’t giggle through high speed corners.” Inkeri didn’t budge so he continued. “And, I don’t get carsick.” 

“That was one time!” she shrilled, uncrossing her arms and reaching for him. 

“We have press,” Robert said quickly, grabbing Russell by the arm. 

“I’m pregnant and you were doing donuts!” she shouted after them, shaking her head at the laughter making its way back to her. Robert in the paddock now was very different from Robert who had left F1 eight years ago. 

Inkeri could never be sincerely annoyed with him being so lighthearted in the pits. Robert genuinely liked George. He was also the first teammate Kubica was open to being friendly with, his competitiveness having shifted slightly. 

In the past, Kubica had made it very clear: he was there to win races, not to make friends. Now, though, he was relaxed and much more confident. There was no longer anything to prove to the rest of the drivers or teams. He was just here to prove his abilities to himself. 

Even the lack of points finishes didn’t truly upset him. Of course he had hoped for podiums, but he wasn’t disappointed with just finishing each and every race. It had been an entire season without a single DNF. That in itself was a feat. 

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Robert began, walking through to the living room with an extra cup of coffee. 

“Should I be worried?” Inkeri replied, taking the drink with a grin. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Or get some ice to cool your brain down?” 

“Inkeri, honestly.” She closed her mouth and mimed zipping it shut, tucking her legs up so he had room to sit next to her on the little couch. “I think I want to retire,” he stated, resting his arm across the back of the couch. Inkeri swiveled to face him, not entirely believing his casual pose. Something was making him nervous.

“Because of the baby?” she inquired, raising an eyebrow at him. Inkeri wouldn’t mind his being around more, but she definitely did not want Robert ending his F1 career just because of her. He had worked so hard to get back there, and he needed to see it through as long as he wanted.

“Not entirely,” he admitted. “But, also because I have proven I can race still, and that was my goal. I just wanted to show myself that I could get back there,” he continued, watching Inkeri start to relax back into her seat. “The baby is part of it since I’d like to be home more, but honestly, I’m just satisfied with what I’ve done. I think it’s time for a new chapter.” Inkeri took a sip of coffee, slowly nodding her head. Decaf never tasted quite as good, but she still appreciated the effort he went through to make her feel ‘normal’.

“What do you want to do next?” she asked, watching the wheels turning as he thought through how to phrase the next bit. “Oh, you already have a plan, don’t you?”

“I do. Well, if you’re interested in it; if not, we find something else,” he shrugged, hoping he was coming off less invested than he felt. He suddenly felt a little apprehensive about his big idea, or how good it really was. Inkeri waited for him to continue, reaching out to take his hand. She sensed he needed a little show of solidarity. He glanced down, remembering how much she always supported him. “I think I’d like to start a karting school.”

“Like what Fernando’s doing?” she questioned, slowly nodding as she thought about his suggestion.

“Sort of, I would like to start one in Poland. There aren’t very many tracks and I remember how hard it was to get started there. It would be nice to give them better opportunities,” he explained, hoping it didn’t sound too far-fetched. Running a school would be hard enough, especially starting one in a country that didn’t have a natural proclivity towards motorsports.

“I think that’s a really good idea,” Inkeri agreed, squeezing his hand. “What’s my role in this future school?” She didn’t want to automatically assume he would want her to be involved. Robert looked at her like she was crazy.

“Your role? Kochanie, I want you to be a big part of this. As involved as you want to be, as you can be. I thought, maybe, you could help build the karts and teach the kids some tricks on how to keep them running properly. No teaching them dirty passes, though,” he chided, gently wagging a finger at her. Inkeri made a face and jokingly snapped at his finger as it waved in front of her face.

“That was one time!” she exclaimed, trying to pull her hand back. Robert kept a hold of it, pulling it towards him to press a kiss against the scar on her wrist from their karting escapade. “Fine, no driving training from me,” she conceded, a slow smile spreading across her face. Inkeri sat her coffee mug down, nestling under his arm. “So, a karting school in Krakow.” She stretched her legs out, resting her feet on the edge of the coffee table.

“Yes,” he nodded, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I do need help deciding when and where.” Inkeri hummed, enjoying the comfort of home for a moment before pulling herself away. “Where are you going?”

“Well, we need a computer to start apartment hunting. I don’t want to live with your parents,” she quipped, retrieving her laptop before curling back up under his arm. “When are you going to make the announcement?” 

“At the next race.” 

“Are you really sure you want to retire? Maybe a different series would be the right fit?” Inkeri asked, knowing Robert had several other offers on the table. 

“Could I really be away that much?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “I don’t want to miss out on all the ‘dad’ moments.”

“There are options that would keep you close by. If we’re already planning to move, we could always do a couple of years somewhere before Poland,” she suggested, shrugging. 


	31. 15 November 2019 - Brazilian Grand Prix

Robert ran his hand over the carbon fibre body of the Williams F1 car. He’d never felt quite so many emotions towards one car before: love, hate, disappointment, confidence. Now, though, he just felt grateful. 

This car had been completely awful. She had fought against every corner, railed against every bit of braking, pitched against the attempts at creating downforce. Driving her had been miserable. 

He had spent the entire season listening to critics blame him despite his physical performance having very little to do with her poor results. They couldn’t feel what he did in the cockpit, so they took the easiest shot. His injury. 

Robert looked at it all differently, though. Sure, the season had gone in the opposite direction of everything he had hoped, anticipated, even dreamt of. But, that didn’t mean it was a fruitless pursuit. He had conquered the ‘unachievable’ return to Formula One. 

The pinnacle of motorsport, as the world saw it, had been his once again, though. That’s all that really mattered. He had done it. Kubica had made it through an entire season and proven to himself that he wouldn’t fail any more. After this challenge, everything else would just be gravy. 

His index finger traced over a scrape, hidden by a fresh sponsor advert but still rough under his touch. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he remembered the surprising force Inkeri had thrown her clipboard with. 

_ “I’m telling you, we cannot fix the power issues without making some major alterations to the energy recovery system,” Inkeri repeated firmly.  _

_ “There’s nothing wrong with the car,” Claire argued, pushing away the papers Inkeri was holding out. Inkeri’s jaw dropped just a fraction.  _

_ “So it’s supposed to be that slow? We’re intentionally running three laps down every race?” Claire sighed and rolled her eyes.  _

_ “There’s no need to be dramatic. It’s just a few minor kinks to work out.”  _

_ “Minor?” she nearly shouted, biting her tongue to stifle the oncoming flow of angry words. Claire wasn’t listening, and this wasn’t productive. It wasn’t very professional either, but she had passed the point of caring a few arguments ago. “The car is bad, Claire. Something drastic needs to happen to get it even close to point scoring capability.”  _

_ “We aren’t making any changes.” Inkeri took a deep breath and tried to quell her frustration.  _

_ “You’re at least changing engineers!” With that, she chucked the clipboard she had been holding. She had spent endless hours and dozens of sleepless nights working towards fixes for the car. None of it mattered.  _

_ The heavy clipboard made a loud thud as it clattered off the side of Kubica’s FW42. For a very brief moment Inkeri cringed, hoping that hadn’t actually damaged the car.  _

_ “Maybe that will improve the aero,” she grumbled, storming out the back of the garage.  _

Kubica looked up, pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps approaching. His smile grew as he saw Inkeri walking in.

“No, no. Go back to brooding and stroking your car. Pretend I’m not here,” she grinned, waving his gaze away from her. 

“You always know how to make it sound weird,” he sighed, shaking his head in mock resignation.

“It’s a gift,” she shrugged, her arm automatically going around his waist as he moved to stand next to her. “Are you ready to make the big announcement?” she asked, looking up at his now-stoic expression. “I’m glad you picked Tuesday to take a tumble off your bike and directly onto your face,” she joked, gently reaching a finger up to poke at his scabbed nose. 

He huffed out a breath and caught her hand, bringing it to his mouth to bite at her fingers. “Watch how you talk to me,” he warned, struggling not to grin at her totally unbothered expression. Kubica pressed a kiss against her knuckles after a moment, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready for a change,” he confessed, nodding absently. The look in his eyes had grown a bit distant, like he was already envisioning the future. “We deserve a bit more fun and a bit less stress.” 

“We definitely had some fun, though,” Inkeri countered. “George still shouts before he walks into the room.” 

“I don’t think George would call that fun.” Inkeri shrugged again, leaning her head against Robert’s shoulder. 

“He guilted you into teaching him some proper Italian meals to impress Seychelles with. Tit for tat.” 

“Lovely choice of words, kochanie,” he chuckled, turning his head to where Ben was now standing in the doorway. “Looks like it’s press time.” Inkeri followed his gaze, sensing the slight tension as Robert’s stance straightened. He was pleased with his choice, knew it was the best one for him, but the aspect of explaining it to a dozen journalists was still daunting. 

“No matter what gets written, it was one hell of a comeback.” Kubica pressed a kiss to the top of her head before stepping away. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, preparing himself to walk out into the camera flashes and sea, pond if he was being honest, he was no giant name any more, of reporters and microphones. 

“I have made the decision not to continue with Williams,” Robert said, repeating his very practiced answers. “I would have liked to stay in F1, but not at any cost. It’s time to find the joy of racing again.” 

They weren’t his usual PR answers where he carefully avoided anything that could be viewed as a negative response about the team. He was frustrated with the season and tired of pretending that things had been fine. There wouldn’t be any outright bashing, but he wanted to be sure everyone understood it was his decision to leave. 

_ “Driving has been my only focus since I was eight years old. It’s time to do something else.” Inkeri scoffed as she sat down the book she had been trying to read. It had been her first quiet morning since leaving Williams and she intended to enjoy the complete freedom.  _

_ Robert, however, had decided this was the perfect morning to be a proper chatterbox. He had plopped down at the kitchen table and begun poring over his contract and other potential offers from teams and different sports. Within fifteen minutes, his promised silence had morphed from muttered nonsense to random statements aloud.  _

_ “Kubi, you aren’t done racing,” she said simply, shifting to make room for him on the couch. Inkeri knew he would be headed into the room soon with his folder full of options. As predicted, he appeared around the corner, carrying the folder and a plate of biscuits. _

_ “I want to stay closer to home,” he explained, resting a hand on Inkeri’s stomach.  _

_ “And that’s why you’re going to DTM. Ten races, all in Europe. We already planned to leave the UK, so why not Germany for a year or two? Besides, little driver here,” she continued, patting her bump, “deserves a few years to watch his papa race.”  _

_ Kubica considered her words carefully, knowing she was just trying to assure him he was right in wanting to continue racing. He wasn’t ready to stop entirely.  _

“I’ll be going to DTM next year,” he confirmed for what felt like the tenth time as another journalist asked the exact same question. “I’m ready to try something new.” 


	32. 31 January 2020 - Krakow, Poland

Kubica burst into the waiting area, his face a mix of emotions as he grabbed his mother into a hug. He was overwhelmed in all the best ways as he tried to form the words.

“I have a son!” he cheered, turning to accept his father’s congratulations. It had been a difficult decision to welcome him, but Robert had only wanted today to be filled with positivity. This was a chance to start improving their relationship. It also provided him with a reminder of the type of father he wanted to be, his own an example of the things he wanted to be better at.

“What is his name?” Anna asked, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. He was visibly buzzing with energy. Robert paused and glanced down, suddenly remembering that Inkeri hadn’t told him the name yet.

“I-I don’t know,” he laughed, rubbing at his eyes. He was exhausted from the long night and wondered how his wife had managed to look so radiant. “I do know that he’s healthy and that’s all that matters.” Artur started to add something, but Robert had already turned, practically skipping back to the room where Inkeri was. His mind was too busy to wait for anything else.

“Look at him,” Inkeri cooed, beckoning Kubica over with a tilt of her head. “He has his father’s hair,” she grinned tiredly. “Or lack of.” Robert stared at her in surprise for a moment before joining in her quiet laughter, pinching the bridge of his nose. He reached down and very gently brushed the baby’s bald head with his fingertips.

“Already making jokes before you even tell me his name,” he chided, leaning over to kiss Inkeri’s forehead. She smiled at him, clearly starting to feel the effects of her 10 hour ordeal.

“I have given you the gift of a son, give  _ me _ my jokes,” she replied, lifting the baby just enough that Robert understood her message. He carefully took his new child from her arms, gobsmacked at how much love he instantly felt. Kubica glanced back at Inkeri. “Robert Aleksy Kubica,” she shrugged, watching the giant smile spread.

“Little, bitty Bobby K,” Kubica whispered, softly rocking the baby. He looked back when Inkeri didn’t immediately complain. In the few moments since, she had fallen asleep. Robert smiled before inwardly grimacing, knowing, and not caring, just how gooey he was becoming. 

Aleksy opened his big eyes, finally looking up at him. They were several shades darker than Inkeri’s grey-blue ones. He was filled with wonder as he looked over the baby’s face, the mixture of  _ them _ staring up at him still strange and wonderful. 

A few minutes later a nurse came in, checking on Inkeri and Aleksy. She also took a moment to show a very tentative Kubica how to swaddle the newborn and place him in the tiny bassinet next to the bed. 

Alone again, he perched on the edge of the small hospital bed, reaching for Inkeri’s hand. Her fingers automatically wrapped around his, pulling his hand up to rest just beneath her chin. She pressed a kiss to his knuckles, her eyes blinking open to stare at him and then the baby. 

“I love you,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his hand. “I’m secretly terrified he’s going to be as impulsive as I am. Can you imagine, my lack of foresight mixed with your lack of fear?” Kubica chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss her hair. 

“I think we have at least a year before we should worry about any of that. Get some sleep, kochanie.” Inkeri rolled her eyes. 

“We need a year to prepare,” she grinned tiredly, tugging Kubica closer again. “I know it’s not practical but I could really use a cuddle,” she murmured, her cheeks turning pink. Kubica loved her a little bit more as he saw how vulnerable she was right now. He tried to be as careful as possible, trying to fit himself into the small hospital bed with her. 

Inkeri immediately snuggled against him, burying her face in the fabric of his shirt. She had never felt more grateful for painkillers. He sucked in a shaky breath, suddenly overwhelmed with how much he nearly gave up. 

“I almost…” 

“Kubi,” Inkeri interrupted, nestling in a little closer so she could kiss his neck. “Some things can’t be found without getting lost.” He nodded and craned his neck a bit, turning so he could look at her. 

“Life’s short, and I’m so glad we made it here.” Inkeri scrunched up her nose before grinning, too tired to make any more quips. She breathed in, the very faint scent of motor oil, permanently trapped in his clothing, mixed with her ‘borrowed’ vanilla soap was comforting. It meant he was really here. 

Luckily, or unluckily for Robert’s nerves, Aleksy was ready to go home within two days. He was excited to leave the hospital, but being completely responsible for the tiny life was terrifying. 

“I know you read at least six parenting books, so don’t look so worried,” Inkeri chided, watching as Robert stood motionless just inside the doorway. He was holding Aleksy away from his chest like he wasn’t sure what to do with this new thing in his house. 

“But what if…” 

“The nurses also gushed over your repeated questions and constant attempts to turn every check into a tutorial on baby care. So, Kubi, please relax. We will muddle through this together,” she grinned, glad to see him finally walk into the living room. He looked lost again as he looked between the couch and armchair, unsure where to go. “You’re lucky you’re so adorable when completely helpless,” Inkeri laughed, carefully maneuvering him towards the couch. 

Kubica sat down very carefully, making sure to settle Aleksy into a comfortable, and very supported, position in his lap. He barely glanced up when Inkeri sat next to him, totally absorbed in watching his son sleep. 

“I have no idea what to do,” he whispered, his expression surprisingly warm despite the tension in his shoulders. 

“I think the first little bit is a lot of this. He sleeps, we nap. He’s up, we’re up,” she said, leaning her head against Robert’s shoulder. “He looks very settled right now. Do you mind if I go clean up?” Now, Robert turned to look at her, his eyes wide. He recovered after a moment, knowing he would have to be alone with Aleksy eventually. It just felt safer with two of them. 

“I can handle this for a bit,” he smiled, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before she got up. 

Inkeri lingered in the doorway for just a few moments, watching the way Robert stayed leaned forward, subconsciously turning himself into a shield. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she knew it was something incredibly cheesy. Kubica had turned into a complete sap from the first moment Aleksy looked at him. 

“Little kierowca, you are going to give me lots of grey hair, aren’t you? Your little eyes are very mischievous like your mother's. She has spent plenty of time giving me heart palpitations with her crazy idea, and I am even more responsible for your safety,” he murmured. 

Inkeri had always hoped, but rarely dared, to picture the future for her and Robert. This picture, though, was better than anything she had imagined. It was certainly going to be an adventure. Together. 


	33. 25 January 2020 - Hinwil, Switzerland

“So, I got a call from Haas. Something about a consulting role,” Inkeri began, walking into the kitchen. Her phone was still tightly gripped in her hand. Robert put down the paper he had been reading, giving his wife his full attention. 

“And you’re interested?” he asked slowly, studying her expression. She sat down next to him, reaching for his half empty cup of coffee. 

“I think so. They want me to come to the States for a weekend to look over what they’re currently doing. After that, I’d go out there for a week every couple of months, more if there were issues,” she replied, downing the rest of his drink. Kubica didn’t complain, instead moving back to the counter to start another pot. 

“I think it’s a great idea,” he shrugged, measuring out the coffee grounds. “I know you’re restless being cooped up here.” Inkeri frowned. 

“Is it wrong to take a job that will involve travel? I’d have to leave Aleks with you or your mom for most of it. That’s not really fair,” she murmured, looking a little worried. “What sort of mother takes a job where she has to be gone?” 

“Inkeri,” Robert said, interrupting her spiral. He marched back over to the table and knelt down in front of her, taking her hands. “I have to travel sometimes, does that make me a bad father?” 

“No,” she replied quickly, shaking her head. She started to say more but Kubica interrupted. 

“How is this different?” Inkeri snapped her mouth shut, having no argument. “You are a wonderful mother, and having a life outside of that is alright. I’m quite capable of taking care of things here while you’re away.”

“I know, it’s just…”

“Do you want to go back to working?” She stayed silent for a few moments, avoiding Kubica’s gaze. Eventually, though, she began to nod slowly. “Then, you should,” Robert assured, raising her hands to his lips. “Go dazzle them with your smarts,” he grinned.

“You’re very good at this advice stuff.” Robert stood up and pretended to inspect his fingernails. 

“I’m pretty good at everything,” he replied, stretching. “Now, we’ve got another twenty minutes before Aleksy is up from his nap. Do you want to keep talking or…” Inkeri giggled as Kubica barely waited for her reply, pulling her up from the chair. He picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he walked towards the kitchen counter.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright taking care of him on your own?” Inkeri asked for the umpteenth time. Kubica forced a smile to his face. He understood her worry, but he was also tired of repeating himself.

“I think I can manage not to kill Aleksy while you’re away for three whole days,” he replied sweetly, secretly enjoying her eye roll. Inkeri took a deep breath and picked up her travel bag. 

“You can absolutely handle this,” she said firmly. It was partially a statement of her genuine belief, but mostly a reassurance to herself. 

“I can,” Kubica replied, pulling her in for a quick kiss. “Let me know when you get there.” Inkeri nodded in answer, forcing herself not to turn back to say another goodbye to either of them. 

“Look,” he murmured, pointing to the baby monitor. “Moma’s going to watch this and see just how ok we are when she’s away for work. Maybe, she won’t worry so much and call tata every half hour. He is an adult and can handle…” Robert broke off, disappearing out of frame as he stepped on the pushcar he had forgotten to put away earlier. There was the sound of a massive crash as the car shot across the room, knocking over the bookshelf in Aleksy’s room. 

Kubica’s face appeared after a moment, ‘yikes’ clearly written on his expression as he glanced at the monitor’s built in camera. Aleksy had initially startled at the loud noise but was now laughing uncontrollably, tears and drool rolling down his chubby face. 

“Now tata gets to show off his adult skills again and rebuild that bookshelf,” he frowned, rubbing at his lower back. He groaned loudly as his phone started to ring. 

_ “Did you hurt yourself?”  _ Inkeri asked, her voice trembling as she tried to hold back the laughter. 

“I’m fine,” Kubica replied slowly, bracing himself. He held the phone away from his ear as Inkeri’s loud laughter came through. 

“ _ Thank you for doing that when you knew I’d be watching _ ,” she said, her sentence broken up as she tried to catch her breath. 

“I aim to please,” he grumbled, beginning to sort some of the books that had come tumbling down. 

“ _ You always do, but the slapstick is getting better the older you get, _ ” she jibbed, grinning at the stern look he shot her through the monitor. “ _ I’ll help you with all of that when I get home tomorrow. Might even massage your very sore back, _ ” Inkeri added, sighing. “ _ How do I miss you both this much? It’s only been two days. _ ”

“It’s your first time away since he was born,” Kubica shrugged. “Are you at least enjoying the work?” Inkeri sighed again. 

“ _ I’m  _ loving _ the work. I feel so appreciated and like my brain is the best bit of me, and then, very guilty about enjoying my time without Aleksy. Being a parent is incredible, but… _ ” Inkeri paused and Robert could hear her voice wavering. 

“Kochanie, it’s alright to want more than that, too. You can be a mother and an engineer. Being your own person doesn’t have to stop just because there’s two of us that need you now.” He heard sniffling through the phone. 

“ _ I love you, and I hate how sensible you are sometimes. _ ” Kubica chuckled, able to picture the exact expression she was probably wearing now. “ _ It’s cheesy, but I really appreciate you encouraging me to do this. _ ” 

“You kept me going for a very long time. It’s my turn to be the cheerleader,” Robert replied, rolling his eyes at her giggles. “Stop picturing me in the outfit.” 

“ _ Never. _ ” 

“Picture me however you want, kochanie,” he relented, his tone only slightly defeated. “Now, I’ve got to hang up. I think someone has shit themselves.” 

“ _ Fingers crossed it was Aleks, _ ” Inkeri responded, still smiling to herself. Kubica grumbled a bit before hanging up, ending the call with a muttered, ‘tomorrow is your turn’. 

Inkeri had barely been back for two weeks when it was time for more travel. This time, though, they were all going together. Robert needed to be in Barcelona for testing, and it was close enough that they weren’t worried about taking the baby along.

They arrived early on Tuesday morning, Inkeri complaining about the strange hour ruining Aleksy schedule. Luckily, it was still dark outside so the little boy kept sleeping. 

The team gave Kubica a personalised pair of ear protectors for Aleks. It was a nice gesture, and they were glad to feel so included. Kimi especially took a shine to him, unable to bring his own family to the first test. 

A couple of hours before the testing, the drivers changed into their racing overalls. The team was ready to do promotional shots, and Kimi and Antonio were needed for the F1 photographs. 

“Wow, look at you,” Inkeri enthused, motioning for Kubica to spin so she could see the full look. He’d already done some promos in the fireproofs, but this was Inkeri’s first time seeing them in person. 

“Very Polish,” he grinned, ears tipped pink as he turned around. He was very glad no one else was back here to see his modeling. However, it wouldn’t have stopped him. Any amount of teasing was worth the look on his wife’s face. 

“I’m speechless,” she said, pretending to fan herself. Her starry eyed look cracked into a wide smile, and Kubica knew a joke was coming. “It’s handy they put your name on them. Keeps me from wandering off with the wrong driver, prevents you from putting on the wrong clothes, and gives you a reminder of your own name during interviews,” she smirked, listing them off on her fingers. 

“Sure because the name is the only way to tell us apart,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Can you go back to polite flattery?” he requested, walking to her. Inkeri pressed her palms against the front of his suit, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. 

“If there weren’t a dozen people just outside the door specifically waiting for you, I’d be on my knees by now.” They’d been together long enough that it shouldn’t have surprised Kubica, but his mouth still dropped open a little. Kimi had begged them to leave the baby with him while Robert got changed, and he wished he could capitalize on their moment alone. “Since that would be a little dangerous, I’m happy to describe it instead,” she continued, letting her hand slide down the overalls. 

Kubica really wanted to say yes, but a muffled voice interrupted them. He looked at Inkeri, wondering if she had understood whoever it was. 

“What?” he croaked, his voice cracking. Inkeri grinned devilishly at Kubica, but stepped back, assuming it was someone needing him outside for photographs. Giovinazzi cracked the door open, his hand covering his eyes as his face came into view. 

“They’re ready for us,” he repeated, peeking between his fingers when Inkeri began laughing. “George warned I shouldn’t walk in without announcing myself.” 

“Georgie is here!” Inkeri cheered, slipping past Antonio and charging down pit lane. Kubica grinned and shook his head, following after her at a much more sedate pace. 

Inkeri didn’t chat for long, wandering back to where Alfa Romeo was setting up for team photos. She wondered if Kubica would wish he was going to be in the F1 grid photos. 

“How’s it feel being a development guy again?” she asked quietly, waiting until Robert was finished with his portion of the duties. He grinned and took her hand. 

“Like I get to drive the car without any of that,” he replied, gesturing to where Antonio and Kimi were doing press interviews. “I would probably get more chances to fight in the C39, but I’m really excited for DTM. There’s a lot less politics there,” he shrugged, knowing Inkeri would be glad for that. 

“I like all this optimism. It’s not very Eastern of you, but I really enjoy it,” she smiled back, adjusting Aleksy on her hip. He was wide awake now, but still not bothered by anything. Kubica rolled his eyes. 

“I finally get why the guys are so excited when their kids are around on a race weekend. Even if I don’t win, I still get to take credit for this,” he chuckled, softly poking Aleks’ nose. His little face scrunched as he swatted, very slowly, at his father’s finger. 

Kubica looked like he was going to reach for the baby, but George swooped in. They had just finished with photos, and he looked like he had been itching to get back and hold his new best friend. 

“Give George a turn,” Inkeri said, grinning at Kubica’s put out expression. 

“Yeah, give Uncle Georgie his time. You get to bogart the baby the rest of the time,” he huffed, twisting away from Kubica. Robert’s frown melted a little as he watched some of the other drivers join in talking to his son. 

Alex and Lando had also become very fond of Aleksy in the few hours they had been around. At one point, the group even argued over who got to hold him. 

The biggest surprise babysitter to them was Max Verstappen. He and Robert had definitely had their differences in the previous season, but Max was genuinely sweet when it came to the baby. He wanted his turn to hold Aleksy, and he made it very clear that he could be trusted with him. 

Inkeri was so glad for all of their help. It felt like creating her own paddock family, just as the field had done when she was the baby on track. The ones not currently in cars also entertained Aleksy so much that it gave her the time to really watch Kubica on track when he went out for testing. 


	34. 22 August 2027 - Krakow, Poland

Robert looked into the backseat as they sat in the car park for a moment. He had put the car in park and everyone inside remained silent, a clear indication that both of the children had fallen asleep. He grinned at Aleksy completely passed out, head tilted far to the side and mouth wide open. 

“Ink…” he cut himself off, realising Inkeri was also sound asleep. He muttered something in Polish under his breath, shaking his head at the sight of her. Her face was pressed up against the window, her forehead stretched up where it met the glass. “Inkeri,” he whispered, hoping to wake her without rousing the whole bunch. “Look,” he encouraged, gesturing to the peaceful lot in the backseat. Inkeri’s eyes blinked a few times before focusing, an awed expression crossing her face. “It’s a miracle.”

“That they have tiny, button noses?” She grinned wickedly when Robert rolled his eyes, preparing to come back with something snippy. “I think,” she began slowly, gently reaching out her finger to trace over his nose, “you are the most attractive man I’ve ever met.” 

“You know, you can compliment me without being cheeky first,” he commented, catching her hand. Inkeri grinned again, shaking her head.

“As your wife, it’s my job to keep you humble,” she shrugged, quickly clasping a hand over her mouth to stifle her squeak of surprise as he bit her knuckle. He soothed over it with a quick brush of his lips before sighing. “Do you remember the days when Aleksy was so calm that people were shocked? ‘Only Kubica’s baby would be totally unfazed and unexcited with everything,’ they used to tell us.” Kubica nodded solemnly. 

“And then he started to take after you by the time he was three,” he added, trying not to grin at Inkeri’s wistful look. The shift from quiet and observant into constant bouncing had not been their favourite change. Especially not with the added bonus of Aleksy starting to dismantle everything to see how it worked. “I guess we have to wake them up.” Inkeri took a deep breath and nodded, knowing their moment of peace was over. She unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car, moving to get Malina out of the backseat. Robert helped Aleksy out before going to the trunk for the stroller. 

He held onto Aleksy’s hand and used the other to unfold the stroller with one smooth pop. Inkeri had come around to stand beside him, staring slightly open-mouthed. Robert looked at her and shrugged in a ‘what?’ gesture. 

“That was somehow very hot,” she said quietly, handing Malina off and taking Aleksy’s hand. Robert settled her into the stroller, glancing over his shoulder with a wink. 

“Don’t act surprised,” he chided, double checking the buckles before setting off towards the grocery store. Inkeri followed a pace behind, definitely appreciating the sight of him. She had never been one to swoon over men with babies, but Kubica had certainly changed her tune.

Within just a few minutes, Robert was already carrying Malina and trying to wrangle Aleksy as Inkeri moved up and down the aisles quickly. It was easier to let one person gather the items on the list while the other kept the kids together. 

“Keep your hand on the stroller, Aleksy.” The small boy dodged from side to side behind his father, tapping one hand against the stroller each time. “That doesn’t count. One hand on at all times.” Inkeri walked past him, winking at Aleksy as she offered her hand. 

“Daddy’s weighed down by your little sister! This is our time to finally win a race!” she cheered, taking off at a jog as Aleksy giggled alongside, barely keeping pace. 

“I say, hold on, be safe. You say, let’s run like airplanes,” Robert groused, catching up to them at the ‘finish line’. 

“We’re pterodactyls,” Inkeri shrugged, sticking her tongue out at him. 

In the next store, Aleks grabbed his mother’s hand. “Tata is carrying Malina. We could win again!” he whispered loudly. Inkeri grinned and glanced over her shoulder at Robert. Just before she took off, he winced. 

“Alright?” she asked, watching him shift the baby to his other arm. He rotated his wrist a few times, still looking pained. 

“Yea, just a cramp I think. Can you take her for a minute?” Inkeri nodded and stepped forward, scooping the little girl out of Robert’s arms. 

In one smooth motion, he grabbed Aleksy's hand and took off at a run, making a terrible impression of a jet engine. 

“Ha ha, very funny,” Inkeri complained, giving Robert a very stern look. 

“You’re in trouble!” Aleksy sing-songed, recognizing the look on his mother’s face. Robert made an ‘eek’ face and doubled his effort at helping with the groceries. 

Inkeri waited until the kids were asleep before she brought it up. “This,” she began, taking Robert’s hand and turning the palm up, “is always off-limits for jokes.” She didn’t have to raise her voice for Robert to understand how serious she was. 

“I’m sorry,” he replied quietly, his expression very contrite. Inkeri softened a little, bringing his palm to her lips. 

“You can’t use this against me, because I will always drop everything to make sure you’re alright.” Kubica nodded, looking at her like she was the most precious thing in his entire world. 

“I won’t do it again, kochanie,” he reassured, his hand turning to link with hers. “You’d really drop anything?” Inkeri looked at him like he was silly for even asking. 

“Anything. You make that sad little face, and I’ll always come running. I’m just a big sap like that,” she shrugged, draping her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer. 

“What would people say if they knew you were so soft on the inside?” he asked, grinning at the finger she quickly poked into his chest. 

“I will deny it to anyone.” Robert tried to put on his best puppy-dog eyes. 

“Even when I make this face?” Inkeri bit her bottom lip to stop her grin from spreading. She always enjoyed his playful moments. 

“I could never resist that face,” she pouted, letting her pointer finger slide down his chest and over his stomach. Robert looked a little surprised, but very happy as her fingers rested on the button of his trousers. He groaned as she pushed him back a little, accidentally kicking one of Aleksy’s toys. He had ‘put it away’ earlier, which apparently just consisted of pushing it against the wall. 

Robert made a very different sort of groan as the dinosaur roared. His chin dropped to his chest as Aleksy called out. Inkeri redid the button and pinched the skin of his hip just above the waistband. 

“Sorry, daddy,” she winked, not at all looking apologetic. Robert pushed his fist against his mouth, biting his knuckle at the look in her eyes. He felt a little brighter as he remembered Fernando and Linda were coming to visit over the weekend. They had already arranged to take the kids out one night, leaving Robert and Inkeri to some much needed alone time. 


	35. 15 April 2026 - Krakow, Poland

“My first race of the… ever!” Aleksy shouted, running through the house at top speed. His footfalls had paused as he realised this would be his first time actually racing but only briefly as he charged on. Robert looked up from his breakfast, blinking a few times as he registered what he had seen. 

“Yes, he was wearing a helmet and underpants,” Inkeri nodded, putting Kubica’s thoughts into words without looking up from the table. Robert started to reply but stopped when Inkeri held up a hand. “He’s six, he’s allowed. You are not.” She glanced up slightly, confirming their son was still racing around too quickly to listen in. “At least not when we aren’t alone,” she added, winking at the grin on his face. “Maybe requested next time we are alone.” 

Robert walked over to her, flexing his arms in a bodybuilder pose. Inkeri looked at him in bemusement, wondering what gem was about to come out of his mouth. 

“You’d think you would have some self control after nearly 20 years, but nope,” he said, emphasizing the popping noise. “Still can’t resist me.” In response to his overly smug face, Inkeri fanned herself. 

“How could I?” she smirked. “Careful, though, don’t want to throw your back out sucking your own…” 

“Race day!” Aleks interrupted, skidding to a stop in the kitchen. Inkeri grinned at Robert a moment longer before turning to face the excited little boy. 

“What needs to happen before the race?” she asked, watching as his smile fell slightly. 

“I have to brush my hair,” he whined, slowly pulling his helmet off. His dark brown locks sticking up in all directions. 

“Be thankful you have hair,” Robert laughed, scooping his son up. Aleksy squealed as his father tickled him, dissolving into giggles. 

“Can you run faster than me because you have no hair for wind resistance?” he asked as Robert carried him down the hall. Inkeri bit down on her bottom lip, barely stopping herself from spitting coffee across the room. 

Inkeri knelt down next to the little boy, watching as he studied each and every detail of his shoes. He carefully adjusted and readjusted the velcro straps, wiggling his little toes and stretching his feet. 

“Making sure everything is just right?” she asked, grinning as he ignored her. Next, he started working on his helmet, tilting his head each way. He pulled on the strap, tightening it under his chin. After another moment, he finally looked up, noticing his mother’s questioning glance. 

“Yes, I wanted to just go, but tata said I had to make sure my shoes were tight enough.” Inkeri nodded solemnly, knowing how hard it was for her son to be patient. “Why are all of the others so slow?” he whined, pointing at the three other boys on track with him. 

“They’re new to karting. You have to give everyone a chance to learn,” she explained, trying to hide her smile. Aleksy on track was very stoic like Robert, but he definitely had Inkeri’s constant sense of excitement. His expression never wavered, but his eyes darted around and his fingers twitched, always ready to be on the move again.

“I know,” he sighed, sitting on the ground again and tugging at his helmet strap. Kubica helped the rest of the little boys into their karts, getting them all started and organized. It was much harder work getting four small children to line up than he had anticipated. 

“Aleksy, are you ready?” he called, knowing Inkeri would make sure his harness was properly fitted. The boy nodded vigorously, bounding over to the kart. Inkeri helped him with the buckles when asked, and double checked them, but mostly let Aleks get himself ready. Everything ready, he eased the kart forward, lining up with the other competitors. 

Inkeri walked over to join the other parents, glad this race wasn’t being held at their own track. Some of the others grumbled when Aleksy was faster, assuming he had some sort of home advantage. 

She sat lightly on the bleachers, watching as the karts zoomed off. They stayed bunched up for the first corner, but Aleksy soon began pulling away from the group. He was very quick and each corner seemed to come naturally to him. As did the sliding. 

She grinned and shook her head, watching as the six-year old practically drifted around the entire karting course. Robert caught her eye across the track, slapping a hand to his forehead as Aleksy flicked the tail out again. Pursuing racing more seriously would be simple; however, watching his son pursue rally might be a little more difficult. 

Aleksy loved every detail of karting, though, spending as much time as he was allowed watching his mother work on the tiny engines. He also spent a lot of time watching the other karts, occasionally to Robert’s chagrin. The boy was very mischievous, just like he had been. Twice already he had come rushing back with stories of what other kids were running or special little devices parents had fitted to the karts. 

“How often does Aleksy come out to practice?” one of the father’s asked, nodding towards the number 88 pulling away from the pack. 

“No more often than the schooling days we have there,” Inkeri replied, not bothering to smile at him. She knew what he was really asking. “Aleks was telling me about the new LO206 engine you put in Jaume’s kart.” Jaume’s father’s eyebrows raised and he turned his focus back on the racing, keeping his eyes solely on the track now. Inkeri didn’t comment further, glad he understood her. The LO206 was a 60cc engine versus the 50cc engines that were allowed for the 6 year-olds’ grouping.

After the race, Kubica schooled his face into a practiced neutral expression. Aleksy had won by a few tenths, his ruined tires nearly costing him the lead. As a father, he was thrilled to see his son triumph, but as a racing coach, he was frustrated that the boy couldn’t follow his instructions on how to make clean laps. 

“Good race everyone,” he addressed the group, moving to go over certain points with each racer. 

Inkeri grinned at his back, walking towards the lineup of kids and karts. She helped direct each one back to the garage after they had talked through their race with Kubica. For the most part, the group knew the routine and began putting away their race gear before moving to start cleaning the karts. A few got distracted and started throwing gloves at each other, but quickly got down to business as their parents trickled into the pit area. 

“Aleksy, good win, but…” Robert paused, watching his son sigh heavily. They’d had this talk a few times before. 

“But I ruined my tires,” he replied, hanging his head. “I just want to drift,” he whined, holding his helmet strap with both hands. 

“I know, kierowca, but they won’t let you do that until you’re 10. You don’t want to stop racing until then, do you?” Aleks shook his head quickly, nearly knocking himself off balance. “So, try to get better at this. It will help you when you get there,” Robert advised, putting his hand on the little boy’s shoulder. He knelt down so he was at eye level. “You still won on those tires,” he said with a proud smile, pointing to the shredded kart tires. 

“I know,” Aleksy grinned, perking up. “And I beat Jaume with his new engine.” 

“New engine?” Kubica asked, quirking an eyebrow up as Aleksy told him all about the 60cc engine in the other kart. 

Aleksy made it into the garage a few minutes after the other boys, getting a fraction more time with Robert than the others. He was the most dedicated to keeping his kart in good shape, immediately starting to wipe everything down despite the other boys trying to get him to come play. 

Nearly two hours later they finally made it home. Aleksy had fallen asleep on the ten minute drive, but he was now wide awake and recharged. 

“Tata,” Aleksy said, his fingers toying with the string of his hoody. This was his typical ‘I’m about to ask for something you want to say no to’ posture. “I know I usually get to play thirty minutes of video games after I get all of my chores done, but could we play football tonight?” Inkeri hid her smile behind her hand, easily reading the exhausted expression Robert tried to hide. 

“Football? It’s going to be dark soon,” Robert began, caving when he saw the disappointment on Aleks’ face. “Alright, but not for too long, it’s cold outside.” Aleksy cheered, throwing his fist into the air. He took off running through the living room, picking up his bag of racing clothes and shoes as he took off for his room. 

“At least he does his chores without having to be asked.” Kubica turned to look at his wife, unsurprised to see a less than sympathetic look on her face. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever done this much physical activity in my life. I thought parents were tired from lack of sleep, not from constantly having to play sports,” Kubica grumbled, not as annoyed as he pretended to be. 

“I’m certainly not complaining about the shape you’re in,” she grinned, sneaking a hand under his jumper. Inkeri gently raked her nails over his taut stomach, smiling at the way he still turned to putty at the smallest touch. “Too bad you’ll be so exhausted after all that football,” she mentioned, feigning disappointment. 

“Kochanie, I will never be that tired,” he said lowly, growling as he dipped her into a quick kiss. 

“EWWW!” Aleksy squealed, obviously having walked back into the kitchen while they were distracted. Robert winked at her, turning to face their son. 

“Parents kiss. It’s just a fact of life,” he said simply, walking with Aleksy to the door. 

“No it’s not. Jaume said he’s never once seen his parents kiss. His mom said his dad had cooties.” Robert was silent for a moment, struggling to think of what to say and not laugh. 

“I don’t have cooties, so you’re mamo still lets me stay in the same house,” Robert explained, giving Inkeri the finger behind his back as he heard her cackling. Aleks observed him warily for a moment before shrugging. 

“I’ll just shout before I come back in the room so I don’t have to see it,” he said confidently, looking to Robert for confirmation. 

“That’s a smart plan, kierowca. I’ll make sure mamo knows,” he agreed, pausing at the back door after Aleksy had walked out. “Even our son needs a signal because you can’t keep your hands off me,” he faux-complained, slapping a hand across his eyes. 

“Never going to apologize for it,” she grinned back, giving Robert a little push out the door. 


	36. 4 December 2027 - Krakow, Poland

Aleksy went tearing through the house at full speed. The plan to have him in bed by eight was failing miserably. There was just too much running left to do in his little seven-year-old day. 

Malina followed after him, her tiny legs carrying her unsteadily and at a fraction of the speed. She toddled as fast as she could, crying when Aleksy turned back and began running circles around her. 

Robert clunked his forehead onto the kitchen counter for a moment, briefly wishing for the days when it was just he and Inkeri. Things had been much more simple back then. 

“TATA!” Aleksy shouted, straightening his path again and plowing into the kitchen. Robert caught him, letting the little boy’s speed propel him off the ground. 

“What? Where is the off switch?” he asked, pantomiming the search for an off-button on his son. Aleks giggled, furiously trying to stop the tickling Robert had started. 

“I caught the other one!” Inkeri said triumphantly, carrying an upside down little girl into the kitchen. “To bed with you fiends!” Both of the children whined a very loud, “No!” in response.

“I guess that means no bedtime story,” Kubica shrugged, plopping Aleks back onto his feet. He did his best to look disappointed by this news.

“No story?” Aleksy asked, his little eyes wide. “Why not?” Inkeri took a very deep breath and pulled the saddest look she could manage. 

“There can be no bedtime story without a bedtime,” Robert explained, holding his hands up in defeat. 

“You mean we won’t get to hear about Beauty and the Beast?” Inkeri asked, playing up her dejected voice. Their performance certainly wouldn’t win any awards, but it seemed to slowly be turning the tides with their obstinate children.

“I can’t force them to go to bed.” Malina twisted around until Inkeri sat her down. She immediately set off for her brother, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the hallway. She was a girl of few words, but she certainly got her meaning across. 

“Maybe we could go to bed,” Aleksy pondered out loud, following his little sister obediently towards their room. 

Twenty minutes later, the kids were finally tucked in their beds with teeth brushed and pajamas on properly. They were not entirely waiting patiently, but at least they were in one place. 

“So are we ready to hear a story?” Kubica asked, trying not to laugh when Inkeri wandered in after him, clad in pajamas and carrying a blanket. Two little voices cheered as Robert turned back to face them. “Once upon a time, there was a very brave man. He was tasked with conquering the beast of a V8 the team had put into his car. The R30 growled and snarled as…”

“Dad,” Aleksy interrupted, drawing the word out as he complained. “Don’t make it about your Renault,” he moaned, dropping his head into his little hands. Robert stared at Inkeri, clearly communicating that their son got his theatrics from her. Inkeri covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh and encourage Aleks. 

“Aleks, let your father tell you whatever story he wants. If he wants to be the beautiful princess, we will let him,” she smiled sweetly, winking at Robert. 

“Fine, we want something else, then?” he asked, nodding sarcastically when his audience cheered. Kubica paused, clearly deep in thought. His eyes lit up as an idea came to him. “Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess. She was unlike any other in the land. This princess didn’t sing or make dresses or recite poetry like other princesses. Instead, she created wonderful mechanical things.” Malina yawned and her eyes started to drift closed, clearly unimpressed with the new story. Aleksy, however, had sat up a little straighter. “She built all sorts of machines: bicycles with lawn mower engines, go-karts with 1000cc motors, and once, she even stuffed a 45hp engine into a pushcar.”

Aleksy had begun leaning forward, his chin now resting in his hands as he listened intently. Robert caught Inkeri’s eye for a moment, grinning as they both remembered the incident of the Porsche pushcar. It had been a gift from the team after Robert had done a few GT races. 

Inkeri had been determined to figure out a way to make it actually run. She had been out of work for almost a year and her fingers were itching to tinker with any motor. Two days, several curse words, and one smashed finger later, she had managed it. She lost a fingernail, but gained the bragging rights of going 35mph in a plastic toy car. 

“The girl was known throughout the entire country for her mind. Some believed it was witchcraft, her ideas propelled by some dark force. Others simply thought she was mad.”

“Oi,” Inkeri interrupted, giving him a jab with her foot. 

“The king thought she was very special, though, and concocted a challenge to find her the perfect suitor. Not just anyone would do, he reasoned. Above all, he wanted his favourite niece to be happy,” Robert added, looking pointedly at his wife. She shrugged and motioned for him to continue, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “The king sent out a challenge to every eligible prince in the country. They would all come and try to conquer the machine the princess created.

“So, she toiled away for days, trying to build something so untameable that no one would be able to win her hand. The princess was stubborn and strong, and she didn’t want to be tied to anyone. 

“By the time the princes arrived, the princess had created a driving machine that breathed fire and roared the mightiest noise that could be heard for miles around. Half of the princes immediately turned around and went home, scared half to death by the vicious rumbling. 

“The bravest of the young men stepped forward, stretching his arms before climbing behind the wheel. He was a very small man with a lion’s heart; he even had a long, flowing mane. His feet barely reached the pedals, but he wouldn’t be swayed. He tried his hardest, clinging on as the car pitched sideways in the corners. The princess grew more nervous as he battled through each turn until, finally, the man lost control. The car slid off the course backwards, neatly dumping the little prince into a rosebush.” Inkeri muttered something under her breath, knowing exactly who Kubica was describing. 

“Uncle Nando would hate that you call him the little prince,” Aleksy giggled, apparently also understanding the ‘subtle’ description. 

“Oh, I don’t know. He might appreciate it,” Inkeri grinned evilly, knowing Fernando would shout at Kubica for weeks over it. 

“Maybe we keep that between us,” Robert suggested, continuing on with his story. “Next, a very flashy prince had his chance. His blond hair flowed in the wind and all of the other girls swooned at his pretty blue eyes. Despite his arrogant swagger and boasting, this prince barely made it through two corners.

“As princes continued failing, more and more turned away instead of trying. Until at last, one final prince turned up to try. This boy wasn’t pretty nor did he have flowing hair. He didn’t brag and he didn’t prance. The kingdom he came from was very dark and cold most of the year. It wasn’t a fancy place or the most desired kingdom, but the boy still wanted his chance. 

“He stepped up to the car without fear. The machine didn’t frighten him but he still respected its power. The engine roared as it left the line, the tires screaming through the first corner. It fought against him at every turn, but the prince remained steady and calm, keeping the car just within the limits. The girl was full of nerves as she watched the prince round the final bend and cross the line still in one piece.” Aleksy’s head was starting to bob, sleeping coming for him before he was ready. He struggled to sit up again, losing his battle as the story wound down. 

Inkeri stood up from her place at the foot of his bed, pulling the blanket up a little higher as Aleksy finally sagged into his pillow. He was out like a light, little snores escaping as Robert and Inkeri backed silently out of the room. 

“At least he falls asleep like you, too,” Robert joked, tossing his arm around Inkeri’s shoulders. “Bouncing off the walls one minute, sound asleep the next.” He snapped his fingers for effect, both of them cringing as they heard little feet pattering across the floor. 

“Did you have to click your fingers?” Inkeri asked, a smile firmly in place as she turned around to face their son. 

“Did they live happily ever after?” he mumbled, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. 

“Very happily,” Robert assured, grinning as the little boy disappeared back into his bedroom without another word. “I’m lucky he’s so tired today.” 

“Yes, you are. Normally that would have been at least another hour of story time to get him back to sleep mode.” Inkeri paused in the doorway of their bathroom, turning to look at Robert as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you really think you’d conquer whatever madness I can build?” 

“Don’t I always at least try?” he asked, grinning at her. “I might not always conquer it, but I always impress you.” Inkeri scoffed at him, barely hiding her smile. “C’mon, admit I did pretty well on the Frankencycle.” 

“Well, I’ll admit I’ve never laughed that hard in my life,” she retorted, ducking as he leapt off the bed and rushed her. Inkeri barely made it a few feet before he caught her, one arm firmly around her waist as he tackled her onto the bed. She clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a squeal of surprise. “Alright, alright. It was pretty good seeing you make it as far as you did on that thing.” 

“Pretty good? I broke two ribs falling off that bicycle from hell.” 

“You caught me. My brain is entirely fueled by dark magic, but, if anyone is a witch in this family, it’s you with all of your ‘home remedies’,” Inkeri replied, giggling when Kubica’s eyes went wide. 

“Do they not work?” 

“Just because they’re effective doesn’t mean you aren’t a witch. Just means you’re really good at it,” she winked, pressing a kiss against his nose. “You’ve even got…”

“Don’t you dare make a nose joke,” he interrupted, cutting her off. Inkeri opened her mouth to protest but Kubica smothered her words against his lips. 


	37. 1 April 2019 - Milton Keynes, England

DTS

When the producers had first approached her, Inkeri had been skeptical about being involved in the Netflix program. She wasn’t very fond of the idea of being on TV, but she had to admit, the first season had been compelling. It had also brought new fans to the sport, as well as provided additional content for current fans. 

Initially, they hadn’t approached her for more involvement beyond appearing at the back in general footage. After testing, and her promotion, they had immediately been interested in showing off the first female lead engineer. 

“My name is Inkeri Pedersen, and I am currently acting as Chief Technical Officer for Williams Martini Racing.” She shifted a little in the uncomfortable folding chair, looking over as she heard mumbling off screen. “Sorry, Rokit Williams Racing,” she corrected, shaking her head. 

“How long have you been with the team?” the interviewer asked. 

“I’ve been involved off and on with Williams racing since 2008,” Inkeri explained, reminding herself not to fidget. Sitting under all of these lights, surrounded by strangers, felt intimidating. 

“What do you think of the rumours circulating?” Inkeri tilted her head, unsure which rumour he was referring to. “That you’re tipped to replace Claire Williams as Deputy Team Principal.” 

“I don’t think anything of them,” she replied curtly. Inkeri wished this was the first time she’d heard mention of her being a potential replacement for the beleaguered head of Williams. The interviewer paused for a few seconds, hoping Inkeri would expand further on the subject. When she continued to sit silently, he moved on. 

“Are you worried about the season?” Inkeri thought for a moment, obviously trying to be careful with her answer. 

“We missed the bulk of pre-season testing, so I think it’s natural to have some concerns regarding the current season. I’m confident that we can resolve a lot of the issues with some hard work and collaboration.”

“Where’s the new wiring loom for the ECU swap on Russell’s car?” Inkeri asked, clearly preoccupied as she flipped through the papers on her clipboard. The mechanic was still quiet so she looked up. 

“It’s, um, it’s gone missing,” he replied, not looking nearly worried enough. 

“You’re joking, right?” She stared at him, wondering when the team had gotten so sloppy. Things hadn’t improved much since their abysmal start to the year. 

“No, we looked around for it this morning, but it looks like it might have been left behind.” Inkeri took a deep breath, knowing she needed to act even more professional than usual in the presence of the cameras. 

“Have you verified that it’s still at the factory?” He shook his head. “You’re going to call and find out if it has been forgotten. If they can’t find it, you’re not leaving this garage until it’s been found. On the off chance the part is back home, have them overnight it. If we can’t have it for practice, we can still run it in qualifying. You don’t really want to find out what happens if this part is well and truly lost.” The mechanic nodded his head and walked away quickly, finally starting to look suitably worried. 

The next morning, the part had magically appeared on Russell’s car. Inkeri double checked it, pleased to see that it had been fitted perfectly. Normally, she would have trusted the team, but this season, she felt better after a second glance. 

“Where was the loom?” she asked as Claire joined her, fresh coffee in hand. 

“Oh, they still haven’t found it. Derek was upset last night, but I sent him home. We don’t need anyone sleepy today,” she commented. Inkeri frowned. 

“I told him to stay until it was found.” Claire waved her hand dismissively. 

“It will turn up eventually,” she assured. 

“Claire, we talked about this. You can’t come in behind me and start changing tasks. I’m having a hard enough time getting them to respect me. Now, a bunch of them come running to you when they don’t like what I’ve said,” Inkeri complained, frustrated with the situation. She hadn’t been overly harsh, but Claire had a habit of being too soft when mistakes were made. She hated confrontation. 

“George’s car is ready, so what’s the harm?” Inkeri blinked at her, not wanting to snap at the team principal in front of everyone in the pit. Slowly, she nodded, letting it go. 

“So where did the loom come from?” 

“Oh, we took it off Kubica’s car. I’m interested to see if the new ECU works with the old parts.” 

“Did you tell him?” Claire looked confused. 

“Robert has a working car. Why would I need to tell him about a minor part change?” 

“Because it’s not just a minor part change. That could alter the way the power is output. If he doesn’t know to watch for it, he might push too hard and lose the car,” Inkeri replied, grinding her teeth to stop the fouler words from coming out. 

“Is this really about the part?” Claire asked, raising an eyebrow at Inkeri. 

“As opposed to?” Inkeri knew what she was hinting at, but she preferred to make Claire admit it out loud. 

“Well, seeing Robert get an advantage,” she shrugged. 

“Keeping the same parts on the car is not an advantage!” Inkeri clenched her fist, lowering her voice from its near-shrill tone. “If you make any changes to the car, mechanically or set-up wise, you need to make the drivers aware. I’ll check with Ben to see if he’s already talked it through with Kubica,” she added, turning to walk away. Claire sighed loudly behind her, but she didn’t take the bait. She was in no mood to be civil when the big boss was obviously uninterested in her opinions. 

Ben had also been completely unaware of the part change. He was Kubica’s lead mechanic and should have been involved in any part swaps on the car. Inkeri was also disappointed to find out that the new steering wheel hadn’t arrived yet. 

In the prior year, as a development driver, Kubica had discovered that a few commonly used buttons on the steering wheel were in an uncomfortable place for him. His thumb had limited mobility, so he had offered suggestions on how to reposition things to be more accessible for him. 

It  _ was _ considered a specialty part and would cost the team a chunk of money, though coming directly from Kubica’s sponsor. Claire had been more than happy to order the custom wheel as part of signing Kubica to a racing seat with WIlliams. However, seven races in, and no steering wheel had materialized. 

By the Austrian Grand Prix, Inkeri had decided to talk to Claire away from the track. She waited until they were back at the factory before setting up a meeting to discuss her concerns with Claire. 

Robert had taken off to go cycling in the Dolemites with his friends, but Inkeri had been pressured to stay behind. Claire had essentially demanded that all engineering personnel stay behind during the short break to try and discover what was wrong with the car. 

“Have you found what’s off about the aero?” Claire asked, not looking up from her computer screen as Inkeri walked into her office. 

“I have a few ideas on how to alter the front wing to improve cornering, but it’s going to require new parts.” Inkeri sat down, again annoyed that there were cameras allowed into such a personal space. She didn’t want to have this conversation in front of an audience. “When is Kubica’s steering wheel set to arrive?” 

“They’re still trying to figure out a way to move the buttons. It should only be another few weeks.” Claire still hadn’t looked up, still typing away. 

“Another few weeks? We’re nearly to the halfway point for the season. What happened to having it before the year even started?”

“Inkeri, you know these things take time. And, lots of money which we don’t have. I can either spend money on a wheel, or we can spend money on the new suspension.” Inkeri wasn’t entirely proud of her reaction, but she was too frustrated to prevent it. She reached over and unplugged Claire’s computer from the wall, reaching over to take the keyboard away from her. 

“Orlen is spending hundreds of thousands of pounds on this team, specifically because you hired Kubica. They’re already investigating you for conserving parts. Do you really want to bring on their wrath when you continually lack follow through on a necessary item for their star driver?” She felt a little satisfied at the look of outrage on Claire’s face. At least she knew she was listening now.

“All you want are advantages…”

“No, expecting something you already agreed to in writing is not an advantage. You have already spent 70% of budget on improvements for Russell’s car. I haven’t said a word about George having basically a brand new car compared to the mismatch going on in Kubica’s. What I want is to be confident about both of their safety when we send them out on track. I am also fully aware that Russell is our best chance for points seeing as he has the better car. I don’t want to change that, I just want to make sure we’re doing the best we can for everyone on this team.” Claire did not look mollified in any way. “You know it’s the truth. If I was partial, we wouldn’t have the set up we currently do.” 

“I’ll contact the manufacturer and see what the hold up is.” Claire didn’t say anything else, and Inkeri could tell there wouldn’t be any more discussion. 

The next day, Claire had no news. She had run out of time to call and didn’t think anything else could be done until after the summer break. Inkeri walked out midday. 

The next two races went from bad to worse. Tensions between Inkeri and Claire continued to rise. They were often seen standing on opposite sides of the garage, neither speaking to the other. 

The team scored a point in Germany due to penalties for Alfa Romeo, but it didn’t do much to improve the morale. Inkeri was very quiet about her own big news, having shared the secret after Robert’s points-scoring finish, but Kubica couldn’t contain himself, even in front of the cameras. 

“Hungary is like a home race for me. So there’s all the support from fans, plus I just found out my wife is pregnant. It’s a very good weekend for me no matter the outcome on Sunday,” Robert explained, talking to yet another journalist outside of the Williams’ garage. 

“He’s going to tell everyone he possibly can,” George whispered, listening as Robert repeated it for at least the fifth time. Inkeri nodded, knowing he was totally right. 

“This is why I waited so long to tell him. I knew he would have zero ability to keep his mouth shut,” she agreed, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Inkeri, can I have a word?” Inkeri made a face at George, making sure the cameras were focused elsewhere, before turning around. 

“Of course, what’s going on?” she asked, following Claire to the back of the garage. 

“One of the news outlets is reporting that we have ‘an internal power struggle’ going on. What have you been saying?” Inkeri furrowed her brow.

“I haven’t said anything. There’s no struggle. You’re in charge, you’ve made that very clear,” Inkeri replied, annoyed to have this chat. 

“What does that mean?” Claire shot back, her eyebrows raised. 

“It means,” Inkeri began, grabbing her clipboard, “that I’ve told you how I think we can fix our power issue and downforce issue, but you refuse to implement any of my suggestions,” she said, pointing to several sketches on the paper. 

“You want us to completely rebuild the hybrid portion of the motor. There’s no way we can do that. There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with the car; it just needs a few little tweaks.” 

“Little tweaks?” Inkeri’s voice was definitely getting louder, but she found that she didn’t care anymore. “You are consistently 1-2 laps down every single race. This is a way to correct some of that and potentially get us back to at least the same fucking lap!” 

“We aren’t making any changes.” Claire’s voice was harsh, indicating that her word was the absolute last on the matter.

“You’re at least changing engineers!” Inkeri chucked the clipboard, only minorly concerned with the way the heavy item bounced off the side of Kubica’s FW42. It would be cosmetic damage at most, and she felt immense satisfaction at the look on her now-former boss’ face. Inkeri started to walk out, pausing to stand face to face with Claire. She wanted to shout at her, but instead, she tried to scrape the last bit of dignity back that she could, continuing out the back of the garage. 

The team wasn’t happy to continue the season without a technical director, but Inkeri felt an immense weight lifted off. Now, she could just spend her time at the track like the rest of the wives and girlfriends. It felt fantastic to stand in Kubica’s pit and cheer for him, no worries about her actions looking biased. 

Robert sat a little nervously in the folding chair. He knew Netflix would have plenty of questions concerning the season. He wasn’t afraid to give honest answers, more worried about how harshly his answers could be interpreted. 

“Robert, not an ideal season. Do you feel like coming back to F1 was a mistake?” the interviewer asked. If this was the starting point, how much harder could the questions get?

“No. I learned a lot, and I also accomplished a lot of things.”

“How difficult was the end of the year after your wife caused so much drama within the team?” Robert grinned. 

“You used her name before she left the team. Now she’s just wife?” he chuckled. “Inkeri did what was best for her. The team treated her poorly, and I’m very proud of her for standing up for herself. It’s hard to do sometimes in this sport.” Off camera, Inkeri smiled. She had already known that Robert supported her fully, but it was very nice to hear him call out the interviewer, at least a little bit. 

“Will she follow you to your next endeavor again?” Robert looked shocked. 

“No way. She didn’t follow me to Williams. It’s more like, I’ll follow her to whatever sport she goes to. Inkeri is great at building cars, and any team that trusts her is going to be at the top.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This has been my passion piece for over a year now. I love these characters and I hope other people will, too. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and as always, please leave comments or kudos if you feel so inclined. :)


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